


Fire, Bridges, and other Sensible Idioms

by KiaraMGrey



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Crowley is a Little Shit (Good Omens), Crowley is a jerk, Developing Relationship, Enemies With Benefits, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Falling for the enemy, First Meetings, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, Meet-Ugly, Pretending to hate someone you actually think is really cute, Slow Burn, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), angry flirting, fucking while pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:35:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25540699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiaraMGrey/pseuds/KiaraMGrey
Summary: To: The person who stopped the washer in the middle of my wash cycle and took my clothes out just to wash your own… You are an Asshole! Unfortunately for you, so am I. You can find your wet clothes frozen outside in the snow. If you have any problems with this, come see me in 301.orAziraphale has a new neighbor, and they certainly don't start off on the right foot.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 457
Kudos: 651
Collections: Good Omens Human AUs, Top Aziraphale Recs





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this prompt on Tumblr and thought it was hilarious and adorable. I wanted to write something light and funny, so here we are.

Aziraphale made his way down the steps to the first floor of his building. He hummed a little tune as he went, considering what he might have for dinner that night. Perhaps he would order in some Indian food. It was awfully cold outside and he could really use a bit of warming up. But first, laundry. Though he didn’t have a washer and dryer in his own flat, he was grateful that his building at least had one for community use. He carried his basket and hummed quietly to himself. His clothes should be nearly done by now, and if not, he could always wait a few minutes in the washroom. He walked into the laundry room and stopped, a frown flicking across his face.

The washer was indeed still running, but he didn’t understand what he was seeing. A large mass of soaking wet clothes were piled up on the table beside the washing machine. He stepped towards them and gasped. Those were his clothes! He recognized his button up shirts and assortment of bowties. They still had suds on them! Aziraphale bent down and peered into the running washing machine. It was filled with clothes, mostly black and red.

Aziraphale straightened up, his face beginning to turn a bright shade of pink in his anger. Someone had taken his clothes out of the washer in the middle of a cycle and replaced them with their own clothes! Oh, of all the horrible, rude, disrespectful things to do! He had lived here for five years and had never before had such an experience!

He huffed and balled his hands into fists. Well, two people could play this game! He turned and marched out of the laundry room and made his way back up the stairs to his flat. He wrenched open his door with more force than was strictly necessary and went to his desk where he retrieved a piece of stationary and a pen. He then made his way back downstairs and wrote out his note.

_To: The person who stopped the washer in the middle of my wash cycle and took my clothes out just to wash your own… **You are an Asshole!** Unfortunately for you, so am I. You can find your wet clothes frozen outside in the snow. If you have any problems with this, come see me in 301._

He straightened up and smiled primly before setting it atop the machine. And then, he did just as he said he would. He pulled the great sopping mess out of the washer and made his way to the front door of the building, which he used his foot to kick open. A thin layer of snow had settled across London in the early January night. Aziraphale felt bad about what he was doing for only a moment before he remembered what the jerk had done. He would not be taken advantage of! This would teach him not to touch what wasn’t his. He flung the clothes across the hedges that lined the front of the building and then hurried back inside and out of the chill.

He carried his own still wet clothes back upstairs. He would need to finish washing them in the sink and then hang them to dry. He couldn’t leave them in the laundry room now, not with the chance that this madman could do something worse to them.

He worried for a moment that he shouldn’t have left his flat number. This person could be crazy. But if he lived in the same building as this person, he wanted to meet them face to face and give them a piece of his mind. And if they never came, well then, they were the cowards, not him.

* * *

Crowley was furious. He couldn’t remember ever being so angry. Well, ok, that wasn’t true. There had been a few times. But the point was that he was steaming. When he had seen the note, he almost couldn’t believe it. He had seen the clothes he had taken out of the wash, a bunch of tartan sweater vests and bowties. He assumed they either belonged to an incredibly old man or a nerdy little dweeb. Either way, they were going to be deeply sorry. He wasn’t going to stop yelling at them until they cried. People did not cross Anthony J. Crowley and get away with it! After gathering his clothes, which had indeed begun to freeze to the bushes, and stomping back up to his flat, he prepared himself to go over to that bastard’s door. Coincidently, it was only one door down from him. He had just moved into flat 302 a few days ago and so far, hadn’t met many of the neighbors.

He gritted his teeth as he stopped in front of the door and prepared what he was going to say.

_You listen to me you pompous little bastard, I don’t care how old and feeble you are, if you ever do something like that again I will knock in your bloody teeth! I am not one to be trifled with! So unless you think you can win in a fist fight without breaking a hip or snapping your retainer, I suggest you apologize and find some way to make it up to me!_

He pounded in the door, his continued inner monologue fueling him on. He waited for a moment and then heard footsteps coming towards the door. He braced his hands on either side of the doorframe and narrowed his eyes, doing his best to look intimidating. The door flew open, and Crowley opened his mouth to begin his rant, but upon the sight in front of him all words fled his head. Because the man standing before him did not look old or nerdy.

Bright blue eyes widened to mirror his own shock. A halo of white gold hair curled upwards from his face and a slightly upturned nose sat above a perfect set of pink lips. He was in fact wearing a cable knit sweater, but it didn’t look frumpy or unflattering at all. His shoulders were broad and looked wonderfully strong.

_Oh, for fucks sake. He was hot._

Crowley had not planned for hot, and he was now staring open mouthed at the angelic looking man in front of him. The other man seemed to gather his wits more quickly than he could.

“I presume you are here about the laundry?”

Crowley snapped his mouth shut and straightened up, forcing his mind to get back on track and focus on the matter at hand.

“Yeah, in fact, I am. What the hell is wrong with you?”

The blonde frowned. “What’s wrong with me? What is wrong with you! You’re the one who took out my clothes first and just left them on that table. Who does that?”

Crowley scoffed. “You could have put yours back in after mine were done!”

He sputtered, and Crowley tried very hard to not think about how adorable that was. “Sir, I rather think it is the other way around! I was using it first and you are the one who should have waited!”

“Crowley.”

“What.”

“My name is Crowley. Don’t call me _sir._ ”

The blonde narrowed his eyes. “Do try to focus.”

“Oh, I am focused. Look mate, just apologize and-“

“Aziraphale.”

“Bless you.”

The blonde glared. “It’s my name. If I can’t call you sir, then you cannot call me _mate.”_

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “Aziraphale. That’s a weird name.”

“Oh, and Crowley isn’t?”

“It’s my last name, for your information.”

Aziraphale scoffed. “Of course it is.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Aziraphale said as he crossed his arms, and in a manner that made it obvious he thought he was an imbecile, “that you seem like a complete pompous arse. You clearly value yourself above everyone else and think you’re so much better than me.”

Crowley shrugged and grinned. “I know my worth.”

“Yes, well, I think you’ve vastly overestimated. I bet you think you’re the most attractive person in any room.”

Crowley ran his eyes down Aziraphale’s body. “Usually, yes.”

Aziraphale seemed to misconstrue his once over and puffed up indignantly. “Just because I don’t look like you, that doesn’t make me any less attractive to the right person!”

“Woah, hey, calm down!” Crowley said, holding his hands up. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows, clearly not believing him. “Oh no? Please, I’ve known plenty of people like you. You think you’re God’s gift to Earth and mankind. Well I have news for you, you’re not.”

Crowley’s mouth twisted. “What, and you’re so great? I bet you sing in a choir and bake bread for orphans. A right angel you are.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult? You do realize doing things for other people isn’t a bad thing, correct? Oh, what am I saying? Of course you don’t know that. If you did, you wouldn’t take people clothes out of washers!”

“Look, _angel,_ just apologize and we’ll forget this ever happened.”

The man in front of him bristled, his blue eyes going sharp and furious. “I will not apologize! You are the one who needs to apologize you wretched man!”

Crowley growled and leaned in further. “Trust me when I say that you do not want to make an enemy of me. Things will go much better for you if you play nice.”

Aziraphale bared his perfect white teeth and straightened to his full height, which was nearly as tall as Crowley himself. “Are you threatening me?”

He snorted. “No, I’m only letting you know how this can go.”

“Well,” he said as he turned up his nose, somehow managing to look down on him, “then I should inform you that I am not a man to be intimidated. I can make like life every bit as horrible for you as you can for me.”

He slammed the door right in his face. Crowley was left gaping at the smooth wood. What the hell had just happened? He hadn’t even looked intimidated in the slightest! Crowley took a step back and kicked the door, making it shake on its hinges.

“This is not over!” he hissed.

He had no idea if the man could hear him, but it didn’t matter. If this ridiculous, bowtie wearing, stuck up, attractive… no, no, not that. If he thought he could just do this and get away with it he had another thing coming! He would show him why people did not mess with Anthony J. Crowley!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double upload because why not?

Aziraphale was sound asleep, enjoying a particularly nice dream about crepes and Paris, when he became aware of a sound that didn’t belong. It was loud and thumping and had far more bass than anything he ever listened to. He opened his eyes blearily to his dark bedroom. For a long moment he laid there in confusion, trying to figure out what had awoken him, when he heard it clearly. Loud music was pumping through the wall beside him. He frowned. Why would…. And then it him. Crowley. That horrible, infuriating, cocky new neighbor of his. They shared the wall that was currently shaking from the pure force of the music.

Aziraphale rolled over to glance at the clock and let out a groan. It was 2:35 in the morning! He had to be up for work in four hours! What on earth was that maniac doing playing such loud music at this time of night?

With a great amount of effort, he dragged himself out of bed and pulled his best tartan bathrobe around him. The halls could get quite drafty at this time of year. With a bit more effort than was necessary, he flung open his front door and walked down to his neighbors. He straightened up before he knocked.

It took a moment, but when the door finally opened Crowley was leaning languidly against the wall dressed in nothing but silk pajama bottoms. Aziraphale’s mouth went a bit dry as his eyes darted down and back up. He secured his bathrobe a bit more tightly around himself.

“What do you want?” the red head snapped.

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes. “Are you aware of the time?”

Crowley raised his eyebrows. “You came over at two thirty in the morning to ask me that?”

“What? No! I am aware of the time, that is why I came over here! I need to wake up for work in a few hours and that music you are playing is terribly loud! Would you mind turning it down?”

Crowley picked at his teeth with his tongue, his eyes moving down Aziraphale’s body. “Is tartan the only thing you wear?”

Aziraphale blinked. “What?”

“Tartan. You wear a lot of it.”

He let out a huff. “Tartan is stylish!”

“It’s really not.”

“Look!” Aziraphale snapped, losing his patience. “Are you going to turn the music down or not?”

Crowley grinned a slow, simpering smile. “No, I don’t think I will. I quite like this music.”

Aziraphale balled his hands into fists. “You cannot do this!”

“Oh, I think you will find that I can.”

“Turn that music down this instant!”

Crowley tilted his head. “Or what?”

Aziraphale stared at him in utter disbelief. This man could not be real. He had to be a construct of his overworked and tired mind. Surely no man alive could be this infuriatingly rude. Surely, he was some sort of apparition who swept into unsuspecting peoples lives and taught them a lesson of some sort. An apparition with well defined abs and no shirt.

“What is the matter with you? I have lived here for years with no problems and now you move in and cause me all sorts of issues! Can’t you just be civil?”

Crowley let out a deep, put upon sigh. “Fine, I’ll turn it down.”

Aziraphale blinked in surprise. “Really?”

“Yep, just apologize for tossing my clothes outside.”

Aziraphale let out a strangled cry and stomped his foot. “I will not apologize for that! You are in the wrong!”

Crowley pushed off from the door jam and shrugged. “Well then, I’m afraid there’s simply nothing I can do about the music. Sleep well, angel.”

He swung the door shut and left Aziraphale fuming in the hall. Oh, this would not stand! If he wanted to make an enemy of him, then an enemy is exactly what he would get!

* * *

Crowley cursed as he hastily pulled on his shoes. It was nearly noon and he was running late for a meeting. It turned out that blasting music into the early morning hours made it difficult for him to get sleep just as much as it did for his neighbor. But it had been worth it just to see the hilarious look on his face when he had come over to pound on his door last night. The way he had stomped his foot like an angry toddler still made him grin as he grabbed his already cool cup of coffee off the counter. The way he had pouted had even been adorable… No! He really needed to wrangle those ridiculous and untrue thoughts out of his head. Must be a result from an overly tired mind. And besides, if he didn’t get out the door this instant, he was going to be unforgivably late.

He threw open the front door and made to step out when his face made contact with an invisible barrier. The force of it threw him back, and he felt the unmistakable sensation of coffee spilling all over his clothes. He stumbled back and frowned in bewilderment. What the actual hell? He leaned forward to inspect the doorway and spotted what he had run into. Someone had taped clear plastic wrap across the doorway right at face level. He poked at it.

What the fuck? Who would…? He almost laughed out loud when he realized. Aziraphale. There was nobody else it could be besides him. If he weren’t absolutely furious, he would actually feel impressed by this level of bastardly genius. But as it was, his entire outfit was now ruined, and he was going to for sure miss his meeting.

He looked down at his grey Versace suit that was now stained a dark brown. He was thankful that the coffee had cooled down, otherwise this could have been much worse.

“Oh dear, it looks as though you’ve had an accident. How dreadful.”

Crowley looked up to see Aziraphale standing on the other side of the plastic wrap, his eyes roaming over his coffee stained suit. It was clear that he was trying to hold back a smile. Crowley had no idea where he had come from. Had he been waiting at his own door just to hear Crowley run into his trap?

Crowley narrowed his eyes and ground his teeth together. “Are you serious? I have a meeting that I need to get to! This is a three-thousand-pound suit! I should bill you for it!”

Aziraphale batted his lashes and gave him his most innocent look. “Dear boy, I have no clue what you are talking about.”

Crowley ripped the clear material out from the air between them. “You put this plastic wrap here!”

“Do you think so? And what proof might you have of that?”

“I- well you- you just—” Crowley sputtered in disbelief. “Who else would it be?”

“Dear boy, I can assure that I have no idea who else you’ve been an absolute beast to. I imagine that there is a rather long list of people who would like to see you get a bit of comeuppance. Perhaps your mailman? Or a disgruntled delivery food person?”

Crowley stepped forward so that he was right in his face. To Aziraphale’s credit, he didn’t even flinch. He remained right were he was, tilting is face up slightly to maintain eye contact.

“If it’s a war you want, I can give you a war. Just try me.”

Aziraphale smiled. “I want nothing of the sort. All I need from _you_ is an apology and we will never have to interact again.”

Crowley growled. “You listen to me, _angel._ I don’t apologize. I do what I want, and you can either accept that or get out of my way.”

Aziraphale continued to smile, and then reached up to pat his cheek in the most condescending manner possible. “Not that this silly tantrum isn’t adorable, but I really must be going.”

He turned on his heels, leaving Crowley to stare in disbelief after him.

“I will accept my apology in written or verbal form!” Aziraphale called over his shoulder.

Crowley threw the empty coffee cup he had been holding onto the floor in a fit of anger. “I am not going to apologize!”

But Aziraphale had already shut his door, and now Crowley was standing alone in the corridor, alone and still soaking wet. He stormed back into his flat, then turned back and grabbed the cup off the floor before slamming his door. The absolute nerve of that man! Who did he think he was? He could not stand for this! That maddening little smile he had wore while he had patted his face swam into his mind. He had treated him like some child that deserved to be scolded. He was a thirty-eight-year-old man! He was an important businessman! So why did the dizzying desire for him to do it again swell up in his stomach?

He shook his head. He was delirious from lack of sleep and a shortage of coffee. He was not at all attracted to frumpy little men in beige sweaters and brown loafers who looked like they worked at the local university. No, he liked flashy men. Dark, mysterious men. Men like himself. Yes, he was confusing his extreme anger at the man with attraction. That was the only explanation.

Well, Aziraphale would _not_ have the last laugh. Oh no. Crowley had spent his entire life learning how to best get under people’s skin and make them tick. He was an expert. Aziraphale had probably never done anything ruder than forgetting to thank his barista for his frilly little Frappuccino. No match for Crowley, and he would prove it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love these bastards.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad you all love these boys being horrible bastards as much as I do.

“Honestly, he is an absolute nightmare! I don’t know what I did in order to be saddled with him.”

Tracy sipped her tea and peered at him over the rim of her cup. “Some people are just like that dearie. I doubt you did anything to deserve it.”

Aziraphale let out a huff and frowned into his own cup. “Normally I would agree, but this time it feels personal. I didn’t do anything to him, and yet he seems to have made it his life mission to make me miserable! It’s not fair. He played that music until after four in the morning! I ended up having to simply not open the shop that day in order to make up for the lost sleep.”

“Well, you _say_ you didn’t do anything to him, but I believe throwing someone’s clothes out on the front lawn is grounds for offense.”

Aziraphale shot her a glare. “Whose side are you on? He started it by taking my clothes out of the wash. You would have done the exact same, and don’t try to tell me you wouldn’t.”

She adjusted her many shawls. “Of course I would have. Only I wouldn’t have left a note telling him I had done it.”

Aziraphale flushed slightly. “I was trying to be sporting. I wanted to have a discussion about it face to face. I had no idea he would be so, so, infuriating! He acts like he is a gift to the world. I’m fairly sure he thinks he’s the most attractive person alive.”

Madame Tracy raised an eyebrow. “Is he?”

“I- well- that’s hardly the point!” he sputtered.

“And pray tell, what is the point.”

“The point is that he arrogant! You should have seen the way he looked me up and down when I told him so. Acted like he was so much better than me just because he’s slim and handsome and has a nice arse.”

“Ooooh,” Tracy trilled. “Mr. Fell, have you been checking out your terrible neighbors’ arse?”

Aziraphale felt his face flush to the roots of his hair. “What? No, of course I haven’t—” He cut off when he saw the knowing look Tracy was giving him. “Oh, very well, so what if I have? I need to find at least one silver lining in this situation. His arse just happens to be that lining.

Tracy giggled. “I know exactly what you need dearie.”

Aziraphale groaned and stood, walking away from her in the small backroom space of his bookshop. He knew what she was going to say, and he didn’t want to hear it.

“No, I already told you Tracy. I don’t want to be set up on any blind dates! I’m perfectly happy as I am.”

When he looked back at her he hated the gentle expression she wore. As though he were breakable and fit to collapse at any second.

“Mr. Fell, you’ve just turned forty and you are completely alone. Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone to come home to? To share your bed?”

He rolled his eyes and set about pouring another cup of tea. “Of course it would be nice. But it’s not so simple. I have high standards in a partner. Not to mention I hardly inspire declarations of love nowadays. I know what I look like and I’m perfectly happy with it, but I know I’m not most men’s preference. At my age I have no desire to deal with that sort of rejection.”

Tracy pursed her lips. “Now I don’t believe that for a second. You are perfectly lovely to look at. Any man would be glad to have you.”

Aziraphale closed his eyes while his back was to her. He knew her heart was in the right place, but he didn’t want to deal with this right now. It had been nearly two years since he had last been with anyone, and he did not need to deal with that sort of heartbreak again. As though reading his mind, Tracy let out a sigh.

“Not every man will be like Gabriel. There are plenty of good and kind men out there.”

“Maybe,” Aziraphale conceded. “But I’m not looking for a man right now. Perhaps I will eventually.”

Her eyes sparkled at him. “Well when you do, you be sure to let me know.”

He smiled. “You’ll be the first.”

Madame Tracy left after that and Aziraphale went about his day as normal. Only a few customers came in to buy books, which was exactly as he liked it. One woman had had to the gall to try to purchase one of his first edition Oscar Wilde’s, which earned her a swift exit. He knew Tracy would ask him why it was on the shop floor if he didn’t want it sold, but that was not the _point._

He closed up just after five and made his way home to his flat. It was a cold January evening, and his thick coat did little to help against the harsh wind on his cheeks. He could really go for a hot curry right about now. Fifteen minutes later he walked out of his favorite Indian restaurant with a takeout bag in hand. He hummed happily as he made his way into his building. It had been a few days since he had collected the mail, so he stopped at his box before making his way up to his flat. He slowed down slightly as he passed his neighbors door. He wasn’t sure what he expected to hear. Drilling? Hammering? Manic laughter? There was nothing but silence.

Once he had unlocked his door and made it inside, he took a moment to consider the rationality of this feud with Crowley. Perhaps he had been too harsh with the man. Yes, he was rude and a nuisance, but so far Aziraphale had caused quite a lot of damage to his personal belongings. To be fair, he hadn’t known he would be holding a coffee cup in his hand when he walked out the door, nor had he known how expensive his suit would be. But still, perhaps he had gone too far. Maybe it would be better if he just swallowed his pride and smoothed things over. He could be the bigger man.

He put the mail and curry on his kitchen table and sat himself down for a warm meal. The curry smelled wonderful, and he opened the lid to take a deep inhale of the savory aroma. Before he could dig in however, a piece of mail caught his attention. It was really more of a package. It was a rectangular box and it was slightly larger than his hand. He picked it up and inspected it. It said it had been sent from somewhere in Mayfair, but there were no other details. With growing curiosity, Aziraphale cut open the seal and pulled off the top.

One moment Aziraphale was sitting there with a curious smile on his face and warm curry in front of him, and the next he was choking on a shimmering multicolored cloud. He waved a hand in front of his face, blinking in confusion down at the small package that had just exploded. Yes, now that he looked more closely, he could see that there was a spring inside the box that had gone off when he opened it. And now there was glitter everywhere. On his clothes, on the carpet, _in his curry._ Oh, the curry was absolutely ruined! He felt a fire burn up inside of him. Crowley.

That monstrous man. Now he had gone too far. Aziraphale could go without sleep and he could hand wash his clothes, but he drew the line at his food. He slammed the package down on the table and stood from his chair. This was an unforgivable offence of the highest order. He dragged his vacuum cleaner out of the closet and cleaned up the mess as best he could, but he had to throw out the entire curry. It almost brought tears to his eyes as he did.

He grabbed his jacket off the hook and stormed out his front door, slamming it behind him. He marched down the hall and past Crowley’s door, but stopped when he heard it open.

“Oh dear, did you have a bit of an accident?”

Aziraphale ground his teeth together and spun around. Even Crowley looked a bit taken aback by the pure burning fury in Aziraphale’s eyes. He stormed back towards him and stopped just a few feet away.

“You are the most despicable, unforgivable, heinous man I have ever met!”

Crowley just grinned and leaned against the door. “Oh angel, I do love when you talk dirty to me.”

“This is not a joking matter!”

“Actually, I think it is. You should add more pink glitter to the rest of your outfits, it really livens up the otherwise boring clothes.”

Aziraphale glanced down at the front of himself and realized he had forgotten to clean the glitter off himself. His waistcoat and trousers were an iridescent pink. He pressed his lips into a hard line.

“You will pay for this.”

“Oh, I’m so scared angel. Come on, just end this. Apologize and I won’t bother you again.”

Aziraphale let out a bit of a manic laugh. “Oh no, not anymore. I was considering being the bigger man, but we’ve gone past that now. You ruined my curry! I was very much looking forward to it after a long day and I had to throw it out!”

Crowley gave him a mock pout. “Aww, poor thing. But I hardly think a ten pound curry equates to me three thousand pound suit.”

“It mattered to me!” Aziraphale snapped. “I will not stop until I succeed in making you move out of this building.”

Crowley arched an eyebrow. “Yeah, good luck with that. Just know that I’ll dish as good as I get.”

“We will see.”

Without another word Aziraphale marched away and down the stairs. It was only a few minutes’ walk back to the Indian restaurant. Aziraphale had planned on eating curry, and dammit, he was going to. The owners were confused to see him back so soon, and when he explained the situation, took pity on him. Since he had been such a good customer for so many years, they insisted on giving him a replacement for free. He tried to refuse, but they were incredibly persistent.

While Aziraphale was waiting for his order the door to the shop opened and a pretty woman with dark skin and nice suit walked in. She made her way to the counter.

“Hello, what can I get for you?” the owner asked.

“Actually,” the woman said with a big smile. “It’s what I can get for you. My name is Mary Loquacious and I’m from the Order of the Chattering Nuns. We’re currently recruiting, and I think you will be very interested in what we can offer you!”

Aziraphale held back a smile at the agonized look on the owner’s face. “Oh, ah, no thank you we aren’t—”

“Oh, but you will be interested after hearing what I have to say! Our Lord and Savoir Satan can bring so much joy to your life!”

“Ma’am, this is an establishment! You can’t solicit here!”

Mary hardly looked deterred. “Oh, but this isn’t soliciting! This is an opportunity—”

“Excuse me.”

Mary stopped talking and turned to Aziraphale, who was smiling at her with his hands folded in front of him.

“Oh, hello! Sir, are you interested in—”

“Not me,” Aziraphale cut in. “I already have religion. But I do know somebody who would be absolutely fascinated in what you have to say. Tell me, do you do house calls?”

Mary perked right up. “Oh, yes! I usually do those in the early morning between six and nine.”

A slow smile slid across Aziraphale’s face. “That’s perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has only just begun.


	4. Chapter 4

“I’m going to strangle him! I’m serious! That woman woke me up at six thirty on a Saturday and didn’t leave for two hours! When I tried to close the door on her she actually pushed her foot in the door to hold it open! When I threatened to call the police unless she left me alone, she said good! Her brother is on the force and he could give a great testimonial for joining her order!”

Anathema snorted. “She sounds like a very interesting person.”

Crowley narrowed his eyes at her. “This is not funny Anathema. What sort of monster does that? He’s becoming a serious nuisance to my life!”

Anathema shrugged and kicked her feet up on his coffee table. “I mean, it’s sort of funny. And you did start all of this.”

“What?” Crowley cried. “Me? How the hell did I start it? He threw my clothes out in the snow!”

Anathema raised both eyebrows. “And please tell me why exactly he did that again?”

Crowley turned away from her and grumbled into his coffee mug.

She smirked. “What was that?”

“Because he’s a drama queen!” Crowley snapped.

“Oh, come off it! You were an ass. I would have done worse than throw your clothes out in the snow if you had done it to me.”

“Yeah, because you’re an evil witch.”

She held up a finger. “Not evil, just a witch, thank you. But seriously, you should cut this out. You’re being ridiculous.”

“I am not! I can’t let him have the last laugh. I will win this.”

Anathema got up and walked to his kitchen where she deposited her empty cup. “Crowley, you know I love you, but you’re acting like a ten-year-old boy with misplaced ideas of romance by pulling on your crushes pigtail.”

“I- wh- no! I do not have a crush on him!”

She tilted her head. “Really? Because when you were describing him to me you called him angel no fewer than three times and told me his eyes were the color of the sea. You don’t describe someone you hate like that.”

Crowley felt his face heating up. This was not where he had wanted this conversation to go. “Look, it doesn’t matter if I think he’s somewhat alright looking. He’s a bastard!”

“Which you like.”

“No, no, I do not—”

“Yes, you do. It’s why you like me so much.”

“Anathema, I did not invite you over here so that you could make ridiculous and outlandish accusations!”

She came back into the room and dropped onto the sofa. “Then why did you invite me?”

“So that you could help me figure out what to do next. It needs to be good. I need to figure out something that is just as terrible as what he’s done to me.”

Anathema stared at him in silence for a long time and he got the distinct impression that he was being harshly judged. Finally, she let out a deep breath. “Fine. If you’re insistent on being an idiot I may as well help you not embarrass yourself. What do you have so far?”

He grinned. “Alright, so get this. You can buy live mice online. I was going to buy a whole nest of them, and then I can set them loose outside Aziraphale’s flat. He’ll be completely infested within a week!”

There was a long moment where Anathema stared at him with a completely blank face.

“Crowley, are you a complete moron?”

He scowled. “You know, words hurt Anathema. And what’s so wrong about my plan?”

She leaned forward so that she was at eye level with him. “Crowley, honey, if you set mice free in this building, they will infest the whole building. And coincidentally, you live in this building too.”

Crowley clenched his jaw. Fuck. She was right. He honestly hadn’t even considered the fact that the mice wouldn’t stay in one place. And as much as he wanted to mess with Aziraphale, he didn’t want his own flat being filled with mice. He deflated against the sofa.

“Well shit. I don’t have anything else!”

“I mean, I could always curse him for you.”

Crowley groaned and rolled his eyes. “No, Anathema, I need something real.”

Anathema shook her head. “I honestly think you’re thinking too hard about this. Simple can be effective. Why don’t you just make a stink bag and slip it into his vents? It’ll make his whole flat stink and he won’t have any idea where it came from.”

Crowley perked up. “Now there’s that wicked mind I was looking for! Yeah, that should work well. I’ll just have to gather the materials and I can put it in the vent in front of his door. Ha! He won’t know what hit him.”

Anathema rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why I indulge you. He’s just going to retaliate.”

Crowley shrugged and rolled over so that his head was hanging off the sofa and his legs were dangling off the back. “He can do his worse, I can take it.”

Anathema gave him a dubious look and seemed as though she was going to give a retort, but a voice out in the hall stopped her.

“Yes, dear, I’ll call you back when I get in and get settled.”

Crowley glared at the door. He knew that pompous voice. Aziraphale seemed to have gotten home early. And just because he had his schedule memorized, it meant nothing. Nothing at all. It was purely for dastardly purposes.

Anathema sat up. “Is that him?”

Crowley waved a hand. “Eh, yeah, sounds like it.”

Anathema leapt up from the couch and began to walk towards the door.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

She smirked at him over her shoulder. “I want to meet him.”

Crowley nearly fell off the couch as he scrambled to right himself. “What? Ana, no!”

But it was too late. She had already thrown open the door and stepped out into the hall.

“Hello!” she called.

Crowley made it to the doorway in time to see Aziraphale with his hand on his doorknob. He turned towards Anathema with a bit of a start, his eyes going wide as they darted back and forth between the two of them. Once he seemed to put together that she was with Crowley, they narrowed suspiciously.

“Um, hello.”

Anathema wasn’t deterred by his standoffish greeting and bounced forward with her hand held out.

“I’m Anathema, Crowley’s friend.”

Aziraphale stared at her hand, and it seemed as though his unending British desire to be polite had him rebalancing the bag in his hand so that he could shake hers. He was still glaring suspiciously.

“Yes, I gathered that. Pleasure.”

She nodded enthusiastically. “It is! Crowley was just talking about you.”

“Anathema,” Crowley growled.

She ignored him, but Aziraphale’s eyes darted to him and then back to her. “Is that right? I can only imagine the sorts of things he’s been telling you.”

Anathema’s grin widened. “Oh, not much. Just that your eyes were the color of the sea. You were right, by the way Crowley. He does have lovely eyes.”

“Gah!” Crowley choked on his own spit. “What? I did not say that! She is a lying witch, don’t listen to her!”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, almost looking amused. “Is that so? Well, I’m afraid I don’t have many good things to say about your friend.”

Anathema nodded sagely. “Mm, yeah, he can be a real ass sometimes. But once you get beneath that prickly exterior, he’s a real softy.”

“Anathema!” Crowley shouted, now marching towards her. He grabbed her arm and began to drag her back to his own flat. She waved happily to Aziraphale.

“It was lovely meeting you! I hope I get to talk with you again soon.”

Aziraphale stared on with a look of bewilderment. “Ah, yes, you as well!”

Crowley pulled her inside and slammed the door, rounding on her. “What the actual hell? What is wrong with you? I thought you were on my side!”

She rolled her eyes. “I am.”

“Oh yeah? And how exactly do you go about showing that? You completely embarrassed me!”

“I like him.”

He blinked. “What?”

“I really like him. He has a good aura. I think you’d like him too if you got your head out of your ass and got to know him.”

He growled again. “We are not having this discussion. The only thing I will get to know about him is how to best annoy him.”

Anathema dropped sideways onto the sofa. “I think you do that just by existing.”

He threw her a sneer. “You are less than no help.”

***

Two days later Crowley was lying on his sofa, flipping through channels on the television, when there was a knock at the door. He glanced at the clock on the wall and frowned. It was nearly nine at night. He had become much more cautious about answering the door since his little nun run in. He would not be having that experience again.

When the knocking persisted, he slipped off the sofa with a groan. Whoever it was had better have a good reason for disturbing his evening. He looked through the peephole and felt two warring emotions at the sight of Aziraphale. On one hand he knew he was about to be annoyed. But on the other, talking to him was one of the actually interesting parts to his days. He flung it open and leaned against the door jam.

“Yeah?”

Aziraphale gave him a tight smile. “Hello Crowley. I believe I have something of yours.”

He dropped a small bag onto the ground in front of him. The smell of it was strong enough to reach Crowley’s nose and make him grimace.

“Huh. I thought it would take you longer to find that.”

He had only just planted it that morning. He had hoped for Aziraphale to not figure it for at least a couple days.

“Yes, well, it helps that I’m far cleverer than you. If you think this is all it’s going to take to push my buttons, then you are sorely mistaken. You’ll have to do better dear boy.”

“Eh,” Crowley shrugged. “I’ll settle with annoying you. Which I clearly have, so it’s a win.”

“Tell me, were you not given enough love as a child?”

“Nope, in fact I was dropped off in a box at a fire station. Was raised by a bunch of surly but well-intentioned men.”

Aziraphale’s expression morphed into one of mild concern, and Crowley rolled his eyes.

“I’m joking. My mother is a perfecting caring woman. You, on the other hand, look as though you were raised by a stern nun who forced you to say fifty Hail Mary’s each night before bed.”

Aziraphale sniffed, sticking his nose in the air in a manner that had no right to be as cute as it was. “My grandmother, actually, and she was not a nun.”

“Eh, close enough.”

“I want you to stay away from my flat!”

Crowley examined his cuticles. “How are you going to make me?”

Aziraphale glared for a moment more before turning and marching back to his flat. He slammed the door and Crowley was left grinning after him. Maybe if he just annoyed the angel enough, he would give up.

* * *

Aziraphale dropped onto his sofa and pressed his fingertip into his temples. He had enough on his plate right now and he certainly didn’t need Crowley making his life any more difficult, and yet he seemed utterly determined to do so.

Earlier that day Aziraphale had gotten a phone call regarding his late grandmothers will. She had died several years ago now, so he wasn’t sure why her former lawyers were still digging around in her business. Everything she had had, including the bookshop, had gone to him. He knew it shouldn’t irk him so, but he had never been fond of lawyers.

On top of that, the roof above the bookshop had begun to leak, which put all of his precious books at risk. The quote he had received to fix it was outrageous, but he had no choice but to fix it. The shop could not be allowed to go into disrepair. But with everything feeling as though it were stacked against him, his stress levels had begun to rise dangerously high. Add Crowley to the mix and he felt quite overwhelmed.

He needed some sort of stress relief. Something to take the edge off all this. He knew one thing that would bring him great relief would be to march back over to Crowley’s flat and teach him a lesson. He wasn’t typically a big believer in using physical force, but for Crowley he would make an exception. He would shove that pompous prat right up against the wall and give him a good piece of his mind. Really lay into him. He would pin him by his shirt so that he couldn’t move, and trap him there with his own leg between those two impossibly long ones. His body heat would surely be enough to feel through his clothes, and he would probably smell like that warm, spicy mix that always radiated from his flat. Aziraphale would lean forward and their faces would be so close and…

Aziraphale’s eyes snapped open as he realized where that specific fantasy was heading. Oh dear, that wasn’t a very good avenue to allow his thoughts to drift down. But then again… he was alone. Nobody had to know. So what if he found his horribly annoying neighbor attractive? Nothing would certainly ever happen in real life, but in his mind… Well, his mind was his own. Crowley would never have to know.

He quickly unzipped his pants and pulled himself free. A bit to his chagrin, he was already achingly hard. He wrapped his hand around himself and let out a slow breath. His mind picked up where he left off.

He pinned Crowley to the wall. He smirked in that incredibly annoying way. “What are you going to do about it, _angel._ ”

Well, he would show him what he would do. In his mind Crowley’s mouth was hot and hard, angry almost. There would be a defiance in the way he kissed. Aziraphale would have to use force to shove him onto the sofa, but Crowley would be oh so willing. Hungry for it. Hungry for him. In his mind it was quick and rough, him dragging Crowley’s pants off and prepping him with already lubed fingers.

“Do you want this, Crowley? Do you want to be taught a lesson?”

He imagined Crowley throwing his head back, his neck long and perfect beneath his fingers. He imagined him moaning as Aziraphale pressed him into the sofa, fucking him deep and hard. His hand sped up as he chased his release, the image of Crowley beneath him spurring him on. He thought about the sounds Crowley would make, how he would _beg._

He came harder than he had in a long time. He stroked himself through his release, and then dropped his head back against the chair. It wasn’t until he opened his eyes that the shame caught up to him. What was he doing? Had he really just masturbated to the thought of fucking his probably very straight neighbor? His neighbor that he didn’t even _like_? He looked down at his hand and groaned. Where had that even come from? It was true that he found Crowley aesthetically pleasing in an annoying sort of way, but since when had he graduated to full on fantasies?

He got up from his chair and went to the bathroom to clean himself off. He changed into his sleep clothes and then stared at himself in the mirror. Perhaps Madame Tracy was right. Perhaps he did need someone in his life if this new low was any indicator. He sighed and gave himself a stern nod. Yes, tomorrow he would call up Tracy and allow her to set him up on a blind date. Even if he didn’t find his soulmate, he would settle with getting laid. Anything to get that horrible, maddening smirk out of his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These boys are so, so hopeless.


	5. Chapter 5

Aziraphale wasn’t sure what he had expected when he had agreed to let Tracy set him up on a date. Perhaps that she would use that endless knowledge of hers to pick someone that would be at least a little bit his type. As it was, he was currently sitting across from a young man in his early thirties who had been talking about an app he had developed for the past thirty minutes. Aziraphale wasn’t even sure he knew what an app was. And he wouldn’t mind, really, it was good for someone to be passionate about something. But the young man hadn’t stopped to ask Aziraphale about himself even once. He felt a bit like he was at a pitch meeting rather than a date. But he was polite, so he smiled at all the right times and nodded along whenever it seemed appropriate. Mostly he looked around the coffee shop at the other patrons, wishing he were somewhere else.

“And I told Tom, I said that we wouldn’t be able to roll out the update by April, but he didn’t believe me!”

Aziraphale took a sip of his tea. “Uh, who is Tom again?”

The man, Brad he was pretty sure, gave him an annoyed huff as though he were being purposefully difficult. “My partner in the business.”

“Ah, that’s right. Is there anything else you would like from the counter?”

Brad shrugged. “If you’re paying. I’m a bit low on funds at the moment, what with the app still waiting to take off.”

Aziraphale pursed his lips. He didn’t mind paying for a date, but he had already bought the drinks and now he felt a bit like he was being used.

“Yes of course.”

But before he could get up, Brad started in on his tech talk again. Aziraphale could already feel his eyes glazing over. This was not going at all how he had hoped. Brad was fine to look at. Average height, fit body, sandy brown hair and hazel eyes. Not quite as hazel as Crowley’s, whose were more gold than anything. He blinked away that thought. Why on Earth was he thinking about that nuisance?

As though summoned by Satan himself, the door to the shop jingled open and Crowley strode in. He wore those same tight black jeans and snakeskin boots he always wore, but today his shirt was a dark maroon and unbuttoned at the top. Aziraphale tensed, waiting for him to spot him. He decided to take preemptive action.

He leaned forward and laughed loudly, placing his hand over Brad’s. Brad looked mildly taken aback, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Crowley turn to look at him. Aziraphale ran his fingers up the side of the other man’s hand and let his eyes take on a flirtatious twinkle. He would show Crowley that he wasn’t bothered by his rude behavior at all. He was out on a date with a handsome young man and Crowley wasn’t taking up even a smidge of his mind.

“Uh,” Brad blinked, “Was that funny?”

“Oh yes dear, I think you’re quite funny. Handsome too.”

A confident smiled appeared on Brad’s face. “Well of course I am. You’re alright yourself.”

Aziraphale did his best to hide any annoyance that might show on his face. “That’s… kind of you to say.”

Before Brad could say anything else, Crowley appeared beside their table. Both men looked up at him in surprise. Aziraphale hadn’t actually thought Crowley would approach him right now. He expected him to leer at him or even try to make fun of him. He did not, however, expect Crowley to be looking at him with absolute betrayal and fury.

“What the hell is this Aziraphale?”

He blinked stupidly, a frown of confusion crossing his face. “Excuse me?”

“What are you doing here with this guy? You told me you were at work!”

Brad looked between the two of them. “Aziraphale, do you know this guy?”

Before Aziraphale could respond, Crowley scoffed loudly. “Know me? We’ve only been together for a year! And now I catch you sneaking around with some young twink like I’m nothing to you?”

Had Crowley truly lost his mind? “Crowley, what on earth are you talking about? We’re not together!”

“Not anymore we aren’t! Not after this!”

“Uh, I think I should go,” Brad said as he stood up, gathering his shoulder bag.

“Yes, that would be for the best,” Crowley sneered.

Brad didn’t even say goodbye as he rushed out the door. Aziraphale stared after him and then looked back to Crowley, about to ask if he needed to be taken to a hospital. But then he saw that smug grin on his face and realization flooded in.

“Oh, you absolute prat!” he cried, standing from his chair. The coffee shop had gone quiet, but Aziraphale didn’t care. He grabbed his own bag and marched out the door, Crowley hot on his heels.

“Oh, come on, I did you a favor! Did you see that obnoxious little hat he was wearing?”

Aziraphale gritted his teeth and balled his hands into fists. “A favor? You call chasing my date away a favor? You had no right to do that. You embarrassed me!”

Crowley shrugged. “Just add that to the tally then.”

“No!” Aziraphale rounded on him. “This is too far Crowley! I was having a lovely time with him and now you have tarnished my image forever! He could tell others that he thinks I’m a lousy cheater.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Stop being dramatic. It’s not like you were serious about him.”

“How the hell would you know who I’m serious about?”

“Well, you’ve never brought him around your flat before.”

“So what? This was a new relationship! And now you’ve chased him off and he’ll never talk to me again!”

He refused to tell him that he was a bit happy about that fact. He was proving a point and he would not back down.

“There are plenty of other men out there. You’ll be fine.”

Aziraphale had to physically stop himself from shoving him. “You do not get to make those decisions for me! You don’t even like me! From now on I want you to leave me alone. Don’t even talk to me.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Stop being dramatic, angel. If you’re really so set on that guy, just call him up and tell him it was a joke.”

“That’s not the point! You had no right. We are not friends and who I sleep with is none of your business!”

Crowley scowled. “You think I care who you let in your pants? You could go shag half of London for all I care!”

Aziraphale huffed. “Same goes for you! Stay out of my personal life and I’ll stay out of yours. And tell your girlfriend to leave me alone as well.”

Crowley’s face scrunched up. “Girlfriend?”

“Yes, that American.”

He made a retching sound. “Anathema is not my girlfriend! In case you haven’t noticed I’m about as straight as doorknob.”

Aziraphale blinked in surprise. Oh. No, he hadn’t known that. He shook his head and forced himself to focus.

“Regardless. We need to have some sort of boundaries. You stay out of my personal affairs and I’ll do the same for you.”

Crowley let out a sigh like this was the biggest hardship he had ever been faced with. “Yes, fine, alright. If it will make you stop yelling at me and lighten up.”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes and glared at him for a moment longer before turning and beginning to march away. He could feel Crowley’s insufferable eyes on his back, and he refused to turn around or acknowledge him further. Crowley _had_ gone too far. Even if it were true that he had been wanting to escape that date and even if it were true that Brad had been a prat, he would never tell Crowley that. He doubted he would be able to stand that smug bastard grin he would give him.

* * *

Crowley stood on the sidewalk and watched Aziraphale disappear into the crowd. Honestly, he wasn’t sure he knew what had come over him when he had seen Aziraphale at that table with that guy. All he knew was that had watched as Aziraphale leaned into him and caressed his hand, and he had known he wanted to stop that. He probably had gone a bit too far. It was a bit much extending this feud into personal lives like this. So why had he felt so annoyed at seeing him like that?

Was he so petty that even seeing Aziraphale being happy triggered him to want to put an end to it? He hoped not. That was a bit dark and twisted, even for him. Aziraphale could date whoever he like, just not that guy. That guy looked like a tool. Aziraphale could do better. It wasn’t like he was bad to look at. No, quite the opposite really. He had nice eyes and hair, and thighs that could probably squeeze you and hold you down if he really wanted… He shook his head vigorously. He was _not_ about to go down that path. He didn’t need to be getting an erection every time he saw his annoying neighbor.

It was a week later as he was coming home late from work that he found Aziraphale pressed against the outside of his door, being thoroughly snogged by some bloke in a flat cap. Crowley froze with his key in his hand, his eyes locked on the way Aziraphale was gripping the man by the back of his neck and sliding his tongue languorously into his mouth, like he didn’t have a care in the world. As he watched, the other man reached down and grabbed Aziraphale’s arse. That broke Crowley out of his state of shock. Oh, now Aziraphale was just doing this to annoy him! Why else would he be doing this so publicly?

He cleared his throat loudly and the men broke apart. Aziraphale looked to be in a bit of a daze, but as he turned and looked at Crowley his eyes cleared up.

“Sorry, mate,” the other man chuckled.

Crowley wanted to growl that he was absolutely _not_ his mate. “S’fine.”

Aziraphale straightened his waistcoat in a way that only served to accentuate the soft curves of him. “Sorry to disturb you Crowley. Didn’t know you weren’t home yet.”

_Oh, sure you didn’t. Like you weren’t doing all of that simply to get under my skin and get back at me for earlier this week. You absolute bastard._

“Didn’t disturb me. Just didn’t expect to see that.”

“Right, well, I think we should take this _inside,_ don’t you Aziraphale?” Flat cap asked, his tone full of intension.

Crowley noticed a bit of a blush on Aziraphale cheeks, but perhaps that was just because of the interrupted snogging. “Oh, yes, of course. Sorry John.”

Aziraphale opened his door and _John_ walked in. “See you around mate.”

Crowley narrowed his eyes. _Better not, or I’ll poor sugar in your engine._

Aziraphale turned and gave him a tight smile. “Right, well, goodnight Crowley.”

Crowley fought against a sneer. “Yeah, sure. Night.”

Aziraphale disappeared inside and Crowley finally regained the mental capacity to unlock his door and go inside. Was this Aziraphale’s new game? Was he going to bring around a revolving door of men just to annoy Crowley? He absolutely refused to examine why he was so annoyed by it. It was simply because this was his home and he didn’t care to be witness to his nerdy neighbors’ influx of sexual partners. It was just… it was distasteful! That’s what it was. Regardless of what he thought of Aziraphale, he was better than these mediocre blokes that were suddenly popping up like daisies. He could definitely do better, and he was lowering his standards all for the chance to one up Crowley.

Crowley dropped onto the sofa and glared at the ceiling. Well fine. If this was how he was going to be then so be it. Two could play at this game. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sure Crowley, whatever you need to tell yourself.


	6. Chapter 6

Aziraphale made his way up the stairs to his flat with John following behind him. They had only been seeing each other for a week and this was the second time he was coming over to his flat, so they had decided to go for a casual night in. They were still trying to get to know each other, but it seemed as though John would rather stay in and watch television than go to a play or a fancy dinner. Which was fine. Aziraphale didn’t mind staying in. Most of the time. And John was nice enough. He didn’t really feel a spark between them, but he put that off as it just being early in the relationship. Surely something could grow between them.

They walked into his flat and Aziraphale kicked off his shoes. “Go ahead and put the takeout on the counter. Oh, and if you could also take your shoes off, I would appreciate it.”

John raised an eyebrow. “You’re a bit particular, aren’t you?”

Aziraphale frowned as he took off his scarf and hung it up. He didn’t feel as though asking someone to remove their shoes in his house was a difficult ask. Luckily, John did it before bringing the takeout they had gotten to the kitchen. Aziraphale put a record on and hummed happily as classical music filled the flat.

“Don’t you have anything a bit more modern?” John asked as he spooned Chinese food onto a plate.

Aziraphale pursed his lips. “I like this music.”

“Well, I know, but you have to be willing to move with the times. It’ll get dull if this is all you listen to.”

Aziraphale glowered. “I don’t tell you what to listen to, and I’d appreciate it if you did the same.”

“Yeah, but that’s because I actually listen to good music.”

He turned away from John and took a deep breath. He did not want to get into an argument right now, but he truly felt that Johns taste in music was abysmal. He served himself his own plate and took it to the table. He wasn’t much in the mood for conversation, and luckily John didn’t seem to mind carrying the conversation on his own. He talked about his job and his mother and his holiday home in France. All very impressive if you cared about that sort of thing. Aziraphale didn’t.

He sipped his wine and let his mind wander to thoughts of the bookshop and what needed to be done within the next week. The Chinese food was quite good, from his favorite place down the street, and he ate quicker than usual. John was too busy talking to eat much at all.

Aziraphale was just letting his mind slip into daydreams when he heard it. At first, he thought he had only imagined it, but then it came again. And again. And again. Someone was _moaning._ Loudly and with vigor. John finally noticed it as well and let out a chuckle.

“Sounds like your neighbor has a guest over.”

Aziraphale frowned. He was right, it was coming from Crowley’s flat. The sudden sound of thudding on the wall made a blush rise to his cheeks. Apparently, Crowley was having very loud and enthusiastic sex with someone. For some reason, this made Aziraphale incredibly angry. Crowley just had to ruin everything, didn’t he? Here he was having a lovely dinner with his new beau and Crowley had decided now was the time to get back at him. What an absolutely horrible man!

“Oh, the audacity of him!”

John raised an eyebrow. “What? He’s allowed to have sex in his own home.”

“Yes, of course, but he’s doing it for the sole purpose of annoying me!”

John simply stared at him with his glass partially raised to his lips. “What? Why would that be the case?”

Aziraphale scoffed. Why was John so thick? “Because he is a deplorable man who has made it his life mission to make me miserable!”

John set his glass down, his eyes narrowing. “Why would him having sex make you miserable?”

Aziraphale sputtered. “It, well, it doesn’t! But he thinks it will. Well, I won’t let him one-up me! Come on.” He threw his napkin onto the table and stood, already unbuttoning his waistcoat.

“Where are we going?”

“Crowley thinks that loud sex will bother me, so we’ll just have to be louder than him,” he said as he began to make his way towards the bedroom. When he realized that John wasn’t following him, he turned back and frowned. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

John was staring at him like he had lost his mind. “Aziraphale, I’m not going to have loud sex with you in order to make your neighbor jealous.”

“Jealous?” Aziraphale cried. “He’s not jealous! That’s not what this is.”

“Oh really? Because it very much seems like that’s the case.”

“You couldn’t be more wrong.”

“If you weren’t jealous, I doubt you would be getting this worked up.”

Aziraphale stomped his foot. “You are being ridiculous! You clearly don’t know me at all.”

John finally stood. “I suppose you’re right, but if what I’m seeing is the real you then I don’t like it at all. I think it would be best to end this now.”

Aziraphale’s mouth fell open and he watched at John gathered his wallet and slid on his shoes. When he finally regained his composure, he snapped his mouth shut.

“Fine! Leave then! I didn’t even like you all that much anyways!”

John threw him an ugly look. “Yeah, well, your fashion sense is atrocious and your bookshop isn’t all that impressive.”

Aziraphale gasped in horror. Now that was a step too far. “Get out of my home this instant, you monster!”

He rushed at him, but John was already out the door by the time he reached it. He stuck his head out. “Don’t ever call me again!”

“Wasn’t planning on it!”

Aziraphale slammed the door and then retreated to the sofa, which he threw himself down on. He really wasn’t upset with the end of this short relationship. He hadn’t actually thought it would work out between them. And yet, it had been nice to not be lonely for once. To have someone who wanted to come over to his place and enjoy a meal and have a nice conversation with a bottle of wine.

Another loud moan and a thump against the wall made Aziraphale growl in frustration. He picked up a pillow from the sofa and chucked it at the wall, where it landed with a soft thump. This was all Crowley’s fault. That was two potential relationships he had ruined for him now, and he couldn’t let that stand. He should go over there right now and cause a grand scene, pretend to be _his_ jilted lover. But even as the thought came to him, he slumped down against the cushions. Was it even worth the effort? Would it not be better pretend like Crowley wasn’t affecting him at all? Surely that would infuriate the man, so caught up in his own self-importance.

Yes, that’s what he would do moving forward. He would simply act as though Crowley did not exist. It was really for the best.

* * *

Crowley fell off of the young man beneath him, collapsing onto the bed and taking deep breaths. He had really gone all in for that. He stared at the ceiling, regathered his wits, and hoped that the chiseled blonde beside him would just up and leave without expecting anything else. Of course, he wasn’t so lucky.

“Well, that was… something.”

Crowley glared at him. “What, you didn’t like it?”

“No, no!” he rushed to say. Crowley was only a little ashamed that he couldn’t remember his name. “It was good. I mean, I had no trouble coming. It was just… different.”

Crowley sat up. Nobody had ever had any problem with his sexual endeavors before. “What do you mean different?”

The young man smiled. “Well for one thing, I’ve never slept with someone who was so obviously trying to make sure their neighbor heard him.”

Crowley flushed. He hadn’t realized he was being so obvious. “What? No, that’s not true.”

“I mean it’s fine, really. I know this wasn’t a serious thing, I did read your Grindr bio. So, who’s the guy?”

Crowley looked away. “He’s nobody.”

He sat up and rested his back against the headboard. “Ah, but there is a he?”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “It’s just my annoying neighbor. We have a bit of a feud going on and a few days ago I came home and saw him snogging some guy outside his door. This was just payback.”

He raised his eyebrows. “It sounds to me like you’re trying to make each other jealous.”

“What, no! That’s not what this is. There’s nothing between us.”

“Uh hu, sure. Look, it’s fine. I’m not judging you or anything. I don’t mind being bait.”

Crowley climbed out of bed and pulled his pants on. He wasn’t in any mood to be having this discussion with booty call number thirteen. Besides, he had no clue what he was even talking about! Him, interested in Aziraphale. Can you imagine?

“Yeah, well this has been fun, but I have a big day tomorrow and should be getting some sleep.”

The blonde looked at the clock on the wall. “It’s barely after seven.”

Crowley shrugged. “Yeah, well, you know what they say. Early to bed and early to rise.” He refused to mention that he had never risen early by choice in his life.

The blonde chuckled and climbed off the bed, pulling on his own clothes. “You don’t need to make excuses. This was just a hookup, I’m not about to start getting clingy or anything.”

Crowley glanced at him over his shoulder. “Uh, right, cool. Wouldn’t want that.”

“Nope. My name is Alec, by the way.”

Crowley finally turned to face him all the way. “Yeah, I knew that.”

Alec raised a dubious brow. “Of course you did. But seriously, you should just tell the man how you feel.”

“Well that would be a pretty short conversation, seeing as I don’t feel any particular way about him. Besides annoyed.”

“Ah, yes, because it’s completely rational and normal to be annoyed that your neighbor was kissing someone else. Nothing else beneath that at all.”

Crowley crossed his arms. “I don’t think I like your tone. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Alec pulled on his shirt. “Hmm, maybe. I did just meet you. But hey, since we clearly aren’t a thing, maybe I’ll go over an introduce myself. If you’re so up in arms about him, maybe I would be interested him as well.”

Crowley’s eyes grew wide and his mouth fell open. “What? No! Don’t you dare!”

“Ha!” he cried, pointing at him. “I knew it! You like him and you don’t want anyone else to be interested in him. That’s why you were trying to make him jealous.”

Alright, that was enough! He wasn’t going to be lectured and tricked by some Uni student. “Right, this has been fun, but I think you should go. As I said, busy day tomorrow.”

“Fine, fine, have it your way. Be in denial. But if you ever need someone to help make your neighbor, who you clearly have a crush on, jealous again, give me a call. I mean, I don’t want a relationship with you because of the whole being hung up on another guy thing. And,” he stepped forward and tapped him on the forehead, “I don’t think you’re completely right in the head. But you’re quite good in the sack. So, until you and your neighbor figure it out, I’m down to scratch that itch. Don’t want you traumatizing any other poor souls.”

“Ok, get _out_ of my flat Alex!”

“It’s Alec, actually.”

“I don’t care! I passed polite several minutes ago.”

He ushered the young man to the door and nudged him out. Alec turned back once more once he was in the hall.

“Just remember what I said. It’s ok to face your feelings.”

Crowley slammed the door in his face and heard him laughing on the other side. Arrogant prat. Like he knew anything about him at all, just because they had shagged. Crowley knew himself far better than some twenty-three-year-old twink ever could. Ha, him liking Aziraphale. Yeah, right. The only thing he liked about him was the occasional entertainment he provided. And he had rather nice hair. And eyes. And sometimes when he was being a particularly right bastard, he would give him that smug smirk like he knew he was better than him, and it was rather endearing. But besides that, nothing!

He had _only_ done this to annoy him and ruin his evening with _John._ Stupid John with his stupid little hat. He probably never made Aziraphale shout when he was fucking him. The image of Aziraphale in bed with that wanker came unbidden to his mind, and he quickly shook it away. Not because it bothered him. No. It was just because he didn’t want to think about that stuffy, bothersome, know-it-all man being bent over a sofa and taking it from some loser.

And yet the image persisted. Aziraphale, his face flushed and eyes closed in pure, uninhibited ecstasy as he was thoroughly fucked. But in his mind, it wasn’t John that was behind him. He imagined his own hands sliding up Aziraphale’s sides and digging into the skin of his hips, his own cock buried inside him as Aziraphale cried out with pleasure. He could picture the way Aziraphale would moan deep and low, Crowley’s name on his lips as he allowed himself to be brought to the edge of oblivion. And he would _want_ Crowley to—

His eyes snapped open as he cut that fantasy off. What the hell was he doing? He couldn’t go around thinking of Aziraphale like that. That was the last thing he needed. And yet even as he dropped onto his bed that night, attempting to get some sleep for work the next day, that fantasy replayed behind his eyelids over and over. And when he got himself off to it, Aziraphale’s name gasped from his lips, he felt only the smallest bit of shame in the ridiculous fantasy. It would never come to be anyways, so it wasn’t like it mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're just. So. Ridiculous.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I'm back.

Crowley’s morning was already starting off shitty. First, his coffee maker had broken. For several long moments he had stared at it, and in a moment of insanity had become convinced it was Aziraphale who had done it. That he had somehow figured out how to get into his home and cause the machine to break down right when he really needed it. But even he wasn’t crazy enough to entertain that thought for long. This was just bad luck.

Next, he had ripped a hole in his favorite pair of trousers while bending over to slide on his shoes. Which just wasn’t fair. The trousers had never done anything. He had been forced to change into his second favorite pair, which simply weren’t as good.

So by the time he got out the door, minus his coffee and best trousers, he was in a bit of a foul mood. The sound of another door opening made him look up as he was locking the door. Aziraphale was just coming out of his own flat, tartan flask in one hand and his leather satchel in the other. Crowley grinned. Perhaps his morning was looking up already. At least he could annoy Aziraphale.

“Hey there angel, have a good night?”

Crowley waited for the sharp comeback, but besides a small stiffening of his shoulders, he said nothing. Crowley raised an eyebrow. That wasn’t like him. Aziraphale locked his door and then made his way towards him, walking as far across the hall as he could to avoid him. Well, Crowley couldn’t have that. He fell into step.

“I asked if you had a goodnight.”

Still, nothing. Crowley frowned. Fine, so he was playing hardball today. Well, Crowley could still annoy him even if he didn’t want to talk.

“I did. Had a hot date over. Allen, his name was. He’s only twenty-five. Not much going on upstairs, but he’s great on the eyes.”

He saw Aziraphale’s mouth tighten and he picked up his pace, trotting down the steps to the ground level. With his long legs, Crowley didn’t have to try very hard to keep up.

“Sorry if we were a bit loud. But hey, I’m sure you know how it is. Sometimes the sex is so good you just need to shout it to the heavens. Or well, maybe you don’t know. Is John even able to get it up?”

Aziraphale burst out the door and onto the pavement outside. Crowley barely managed to avoid being smacked in the face with the door.

“So, I’ll take that as a no? Figures. You probably like boring, dull sex anyways—”

“Crowley!” he shouted, spinning on the spot to face him. “Will you just leave me alone for once? I am not in the mood to talk to you!”

Crowley grinned as Aziraphale spun away and began to speed walk down the street. He caught up quickly with his long strides.

“What’s the matter? Don’t like me taking shots at your boring boyfriend?”

Aziraphale huffed and rolled his eyes. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I am no longer seeing John.”

Well, now _that_ made Crowley pause. He examined the side of Aziraphale’s face as they walked. His brows were lowered, and his mouth was pinched tight in frustration. Crowley suddenly felt just the tiniest bit bad.

“Why not?”

“Once again, I hardly think that’s your business.”

Crowley slid his hands into his pockets and chewed his lip. “Oh, come on, I’m not trying to make fun. I’m sorry it didn’t work out between you two.”

Aziraphale shot him a disbelieving glare. “I don’t believe you.”

Ok, he wasn’t _wrong,_ but he still resented his distrust. “No, really. So, why did you dump him?”

A few different emotions flashed across Aziraphale’s face, settling on something close to curious. “What makes you think I dumped him?”

Crowley blinked. What else could it be? It wasn’t as if plain old John would ever leave Aziraphale willingly. That was just absurd. John was boring and plain and he wore _hats._ Aziraphale might be an absolute bastard, but he was also undeniably attractive.

“Well, I don’t know. He just seemed like the sort of guy you would get bored of quickly. You did dump him, didn’t you?”

Aziraphale pressed his lips together. “It was a mutually decided breakup.”

He turned away from him and began to walk once more down the street. Crowley rushed to keep up. The weather was still unreasonable cold, and Crowley’s jacket was built more for style than practicality, so he had to pull it up around his neck just to stop the wind from biting. Aziraphale, on the other hand, was wrapped up in what looked like a very comfy jacket with a tartan collar. Of course it was tartan, the bloody dork.

“It’s for the best I’m sure,” Crowley said once he had fallen in step with him.

Aziraphale jumped a bit, not seeming to have realized Crowley was following him. “Excuse me?”

“I said it’s for the best. I didn’t like him anyways.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “Yes, because who I date is solely dependent on whether or not you like him. Besides, you didn’t even know him.”

“I could gather enough. I saw that silly hat he was wearing.”

An unintentional laugh burst forth from Aziraphale, pleasantly surprising Crowley. He did his best to cover it up, but Crowley could see that he was trying to hide a smile. Crowley grinned wider.

“Come on, don’t tell me you didn’t think the hat was terrible.”

“I will neither confirm nor deny such statements.”

“That means you agree.”

“I do not!” he cried. “Don’t put words into my mouth.”

“I’ll put something else into your mouth,” he quipped, only realizing what he’d said when the words were out of his mouth.

Aziraphale looked at him sharply, his eyes going wide and his already pink ears taking on an even redder shade. Crowley clamped his mouth shut, knowing he had gone a step too far with that one. He cleared his throat and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Uh, sorry, sometimes my mouth just runs away with itself.”

Aziraphale raised a single eyebrow, just the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I bet it does.”

Now it was Crowley’s turn to look at him with wide eyes. Was Aziraphale… _flirting_ with him? No, he couldn’t be. He must be trying to rile him up. Well, it wasn’t going to work. Crowley wasn’t easily flustered.

“Wouldn’t you just like to find out, angel.”

Aziraphale came to a stop, and it was then that Crowley realized they were standing in front of a shop. He looked up at the faded sign of a bookshop and frowned.

“A.Z. Fell and Co.? Is this your shop?”

Aziraphale pulled a key from his pocket and stepped up to the door. “It is indeed. My bookshop.”

“Huh.”

Crowley hadn’t ever considered what Aziraphale might do for a living, but if he had put any thought into it at all he probably could have come up with this. Aziraphale seemed like the type to hide among dusty shelves of old books with warm cups of tea, where nobody could bother him. The thought only made Crowley want to bother him more.

Aziraphale pushed opened the door and took a step in before turning back toward Crowley, an uncertain look on his face. The wind blew Crowley’s collar up and he had to battle it back down. Aziraphale sighed.

“Would you like to come in?”

Crowley blinked. What the hell? Was Aziraphale being polite? Since when was that something they did for each other?

“Um, no, that’s alright. I’ve got to get to work.”

He watched Aziraphale’s shoulders slump with what looked like relief and could help but bark out a laugh.

“Oh, come on angel, don’t take it _too_ hard.”

Aziraphale smirked. “I’ll try to not be too dismayed at your refusal. You had better run along then.”

Crowley snorted. “Yes, _mum._ ”

Aziraphale glared at him once more before shutting the door and disappearing inside his shop. Crowley smiled to himself and began to walk the way they had been going, only to remember that he had walked for several minutes in the wrong direction just to bother Aziraphale. Only, in the end, he hadn’t really seemed to bother him. Which was… odd. Because in the end he hadn’t actually wanted to bother him. He had been _enjoying_ talking to him. They had joked with each other. Weird. Maybe he could prank him later to even the balance. But even as he thought on it, his heart wasn’t in it. What was wrong with him? Was he going weak? He scrunched up his nose. Maybe he was just tired. Yeah, that would be it. Once he got some rest, he would go right back to irritating Aziraphale like normal.

* * *

Aziraphale was sipping a warm cup of tea and reading one of his classics when the bell over the door jingled. He looked up and smiled when he saw Tracy sweeping in, her shawls a myriad of color around her.

“Tracy, I wasn’t expecting you for another hour.”

She swept up to him and dropped her bag onto the floor beside him. “Oh, felt like coming a bit early. Had a feeling you would have something to talk about.”

He frowned. “Did you? About what?”

She tsked as she sat down across from him. “You know it doesn’t work like that dearie. So, do you? Have something to talk about?”

Aziraphale pressed his lips together and sat his tea down. “I suppose I do. John and I broke up.”

She tilted her head, appraising him. “I see. You weren’t all that serious anyways though, were you?”

“Well, no. But it was nice to have someone to spend evenings with and talk to. Someone who wanted to kiss me and hold my hand.”

Tracy leaned forward and patted his knee. “Don’t you worry love. Your Mr. Right is out there. In fact,” she said brightly as she pulled out her phone, “I got the number of a handsome young man down at the shops this morning. Told him I knew a wonderful man who might be interested in going to dinner.”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes. “Tracy, you only _just_ found out John and I broke up. Why did you get his number?”

She waved a hand. “Oh, it’s always nice to have a backup plan. Here, I’ll just give you his number and you can plan a date.”

“Oh, I don’t know Tracy. Maybe I should take a break from dating. None of my prospects have worked out very well so far.”

“Nonsense!” she cried. “You just haven’t found the right one. He’s out there though, I can sense it. Possibly closer than you might think.”

Aziraphale eyed her cautiously, taking a sip of tea. “What does that even mean? How can you sense it?”

“Don’t doubt me on this Zira. You know how often I’m right.”

He wished he could say he didn’t know any such thing, but that would be a lie. Tracy had an unusual knack for knowing certain things that she had no right to know. She had once predicted he would get a package from his brother, down to the day. This wouldn’t be odd if not for the fact that at that point he hadn’t spoken to his brother in four years, let alone gotten a package from him. Since then, Aziraphale had begun to secretly believe Tracy when she said something was going to happen. So, if she was sure that he was going to find the person for him soon, he would believe her.

“Alright, give me his number. Perhaps he’ll be interested in dinner sometime this week.”

Tracy beamed. “Oh, I’m sure he will be. He seemed interested as well.”

After Tracy had left and evening had come, Aziraphale set about closing up the shop for the night. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Tracy had said. Would he really find the man meant for him? Honestly, he hoped so. He was sick of dating. All he wanted was to finally move onto the next step and settle down with someone he loved. Was that really too much to ask for? He could picture it in his mind when he thought about what he wanted.

He wanted warm hugs and legs entwined beneath blankets. He wanted shared breakfasts in the morning and glasses of wine beside the hearth at night. He wanted laughter and gentleness and passion. He wanted love.

By the time he got back to his building, he was completely lost in thought. He marched up the steps and past Crowley’s door, not bothering to spare it a glance. He didn’t have time to think about Crowley right now. Even if he hadn’t been horrible this morning. Which had been odd. He had almost seemed like a caring person for a few minutes. He reached for his door handle, only to receive a sharp jolt when his hand wrapped around it. He let out a yelp of surprise, jumping back. What in the…?

Cackling from down the hall made him turn. Crowley was leaning in his doorway, a wide grin spread across his face and his amber eyes bright.

“Sorry about that, angel. Couldn’t help myself, I’m just too good. I suppose you can _shock_ it up to my experience.”

Aziraphale gave him a deadpan stare. “How long did it take you to come up with that?”

Crowley shrugged. “Eh, only a few hours. Got you though, didn’t it?”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh yes, you’re a master trickster. Because nobody has ever used a shock button before.”

“Hey, it’s a classic. Nobody said I had to be original.”

Aziraphale knew he should probably be mad at Crowley, or at least annoyed with him. He was terribly irritating, after all. Instead, he found himself shaking his head almost fondly at the redhead across from him.

“Did you learn all of your pranks from eleven year old’s?”

Something sharp glinted in Crowley’s eyes. “What, are you saying you want me to step my game up?”

“What? No!”

“Because I can angel. I can pull out all the stops. I was going easy, but I can make your properly miserable if I put my mind to it.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t insulting you. It’s perhaps your one charming quality.”

Crowley stared at him blankly for a few moments. “You think I’m charming?”

“What? I- no, that’s not what I—” Aziraphale sputtered.

Crowley only grinned wider. “No, it’s ok. I get it. I _am_ charming, aren’t I?”

“Oh, for heavens sake!” he cried. “There you go, being insufferable once more. This is what I get for trying to pay you a compliment. Well don’t worry, I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Oh, come on angel, I’m only joking!”

Aziraphale walking into his flat and slammed the door behind him, his face still flushed red. God, Crowley was the most infuriating person he had ever met. Why was it so easy for him to get under his skin? He had years of experience with customers, he should be used to this by now. But somehow, Crowley always knew the right buttons to push to get him going again. It was maddening. And, even if it was just a little bit charming, Aziraphale felt no need to acknowledge it further.


	8. Chapter 8

Aziraphale straightened the napkin in his lap as he waited for his date to arrive. He had sent Lewis a text a few days ago, and after sending pictures back and forth to make sure they were both interested, had decided to meet tonight at a cozy Italian restaurant. Lewis was in his mid-thirties, he worked as an investment broker, and he was quite handsome. Dark hair and grey eyes and nice dimples. Aziraphale found himself actually quite excited for this date.

Just then the chair across from him slid out and the man he knew to be Lewis sat down. He looked just like his picture, luckily, though his smile appeared a bit strained. Aziraphale straightened up and smiled brightly.

“Lewis, hello, it’s lovely to finally meet you in person.”

Lewis held out his hand for a handshake, which Aziraphale found a bit odd, but shook it none the less.

“Yeah, it’s uh, nice to meet you too. Did you already order?”

Aziraphale blinked. Was it just him, or did Lewis seem like he was already in a rush to get out of here? He did his best to smile and brush it off.

“Oh, no, not yet. Though I did order a bottle of absolutely delicious red wine. My treat.”

Lewis picked up his menu, avoiding eye contact with Aziraphale completely. “I only drink whiskey or bourbon.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale wasn’t really sure what to say to that. He supposed he could just enjoy the bottle by himself then. He cleared his throat, desperate to get this all back on track.

“So, did you just come here from work?”

“Yep.”

“How was your day?”

“Fine.”

“Right… Mine was good as well. I actually sold a book. I did tell you I own a shop, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did.”

Aziraphale stared at him. What the hell was this man’s problem? Over text he had seemed like a perfectly charming and charismatic person, enough so that Aziraphale had been eager to meet him. Now, it was like he couldn’t wait to get away from him.

“Is everything alright?”

Finally, he looked up. “What?”

“Are you ok? You seem a bit… distracted. Did I do something wrong?”

Lewis let out a sigh and set down his menu. “Yeah, you could say that.”

Aziraphale frowned. “Would you mind telling me what, so that I may rectify it?”

He huffed. “There’s nothing you can do _now._ I suppose it’s my fault for not asking for a full body picture.”

There was a long moment of drawn out silence as Aziraphale tried to work out what he was talking about.

“I beg your pardon?”

Lewis rolled his eyes and shook his head, as though Aziraphale were being unreasonably dense. “Look, I’m sure you’re a nice guy. But I’m looking for someone more like me. Someone a bit more fit and who won’t be out of breath going up a flight of stairs.”

Aziraphale’s mouth fell open in shock. He was still trying to form a response when Lewis continued.

“It’s fine, really. I just don’t think this is going to work out. But we can eat and still go back to my place to fuck if you want. I’m not opposed to a one-night stand with a chubbier guy.”

Aziraphale’s words finally caught up to him. He threw his napkin down on the table and stood, nearly knocking over his chair. “How dare you? I have never been so insulted!”

Lewis held up his hands. “Look, I’m just being honest. You can’t seriously tell me you think you’re in good shape?”

Aziraphale knew that people around them were staring now and his face was likely as red as the tablecloth. He straightened his waistcoat and set his shoulders.

“I will have you know that I like how I look! I do not care what people like you think.”

“Hey, come on, don’t be so offended. I said I would still sleep with you.”

“I do not need your pity fuck!” he snapped. “I have plenty of sexual prospects!”

Without another word he stormed out of the restaurant, leaving everyone staring after him. He made it one block before stopping and to lean against a wall. Aziraphale prided himself on having a strong backbone, on not caring what others thought of him. He had worked for years to get here. But he had to admit, that had hurt. He knew he wasn’t exactly the picture of men’s health, but he never expected someone to outright reject him for it either.

Oh, how humiliating. He was never going to be able to go back to that restaurant again after this. He had been a fool to listen to Tracy, obviously. He had given it a shot, but he couldn’t keep going through this. This was three for three when it came to duds. Perhaps he would be better off alone.

Aziraphale sighed and closed his eyes. One thing was for certain, he was far too sober for this.

Crowley was sitting on his sofa, scrolling through his phone, when a sudden cacophony of sound nearly made him fall out of his seat. What the hell? He paused to listen and identify its source, only to come to the conclusion that it sounded like Beethoven’s Symphony Number Nine and it was coming from Aziraphale’s flat. He groaned and rolled his head. He was not in the mood for this tonight. He had had a long day at work and just wanted to relax for the evening. Fighting with Aziraphale was not on the agenda.

He rolled off the sofa and into a standing position before making his way to the door. The music was just as loud in the hall, and it wasn’t helping his growing headache. He knocked sharply on the door and then stood back with folded arms, waiting for the fight he knew was to come. Only, when the door finally opened, he forgot all about their current feud.

Aziraphale stood before him looking completely disheveled. His waistcoat was unbuttoned and hanging open, his shirt was untucked from his trousers, and he was barefoot. Crowley had never seen him looking anything other than immaculate, so he immediately knew something was awry. When Aziraphale saw him, his shoulders slumped more.

“Oh, it’s you.”

“Yeah, me. Your music is incredibly loud.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale paused, looking around, as though only now realizing the music was playing. “Sorry.”

Crowley blinked. He hadn’t expected that. Aziraphale was supposed to fight. He was supposed to snipe and be a bitch and tell Crowley where he could put his complaint.

“Are you ok?”

“Of course I’m ok, why wouldn’t I be?” he snapped.

Crowley raised his hands. “Whoa, sorry, not trying to offend you. You just… look off.”

All of the anger and fight seemed to drain out of Aziraphale. He heaved a great sigh, and then turned away from the door. “You may as well come in.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow, hovering in the doorway for a moment. Was this a trap? Some big ruse Aziraphale had set up to trick him? That seemed unlikely. So, he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Aziraphale walked to his music system and turned down the volume to a reasonable level before dropping himself into a big, stuffed armchair. When he saw Crowley still standing in the middle of the room, he waved to the sofa.

“Go ahead and sit. Make yourself at home.”

Crowley did, still cautious. This was highly unprecedented territory, and not at all where he had expected his night to go. He watched as Aziraphale picked up an entire bottle of wine and drank straight from it. His eyebrows climbed higher.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Aziraphale stared straight ahead for long moment. “Do you ever think about dying alone?”

Crowley scrunched his face up. “Jesus angel, that’s dark.”

“But it’s a real thought!” he insisted. “Everyone always assumes they’re going to meet the one and fall in love and have someone by their side, but that’s just not the case for everyone! It’s perfectly possible that I will be alone for the rest of my life, with no family and no love, and I will die alone.”

Crowley stared at him, aghast. “Is this about that John wanker?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know. I had a date tonight.”

Crowley didn’t evaluate why that made his stomach twist uncomfortably. “Did it not go well?”

Aziraphale snorted. “You could say that. He took one look at me and decided I was too fat to be worth his time.”

A sudden, righteous anger rose up in Crowley. “What that fuck? You’re joking right?”

He rolled his eyes. “Why would I joke about that? He’s not wrong, though. It just really put some things into perspective for me.”

“Angel, pardon my language, but what the actually fuck are you talking about? You look amazing.”

“Oh, stop it Crowley, I’m not in the mood right now.”

“I’m not joking! Did this man need his eyesight checked?”

Aziraphale glared at him. “Seriously Crowley, knock it off. I know very well what you think of me.”

He scoffed. “Clearly you don’t. Do I think you are a pompous bastard? Yes. Do I think you’re stuffy and a bitch? Yes.”

“I hope there is more of a point to all this.”

“And,” Crowley continued, talking over him, “I also think you’re bloody fucking sexy.”

Now it was Aziraphale’s turn to blink at him. “What? No you don’t.”

Crowley threw his hands up. “Yes, I do. Believe me, my problems with you have never had anything to do with your looks.”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes, seemingly trying to decide whether he believed him or not. Finally, he shrugged and looked away.

“Either way, you’re in the minority.”

“Then fuck them. I’m sure you can find someone who isn’t an absolute knob.”

“Really? Do you happen to know anyone?”

Crowley smirked. “Not off the top of my head.”

Aziraphale huffed a laugh. He looked down at the bottle of wine in his hand, and then offered it out to Crowley. He looked between the bottle and Aziraphale, and after a moment, took it.

An hour and a half, and two bottles later, Crowley found himself sprawled out on the sofa with his legs thrown over the arm. Aziraphale had slumped down considerably in his chair and he somehow managed to look even more disheveled than he had earlier.

“And do you know what’s worse?” he slurred.

“Hmm?” Crowley hummed.

“He wasn’t even that good looking! A solid seven maybe, but not enough for him to have any room to judge me!”

Crowley squirmed around and managed to roll onto his side. “I already told you angel, forget him.”

“I have! I- I have. It’s just… oh, I was so humli… humility… embarrassed! You’re lucky you don’t have to worry about this sort of thing.”

“What’re you talking bout?”

Aziraphale waved a hand at him. “Look at you. You always look like you just walked off a damn runway. I’m sure you have no trouble keeping partners.”

Crowley snorted and rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah, that’s me, relationship central.”

“What about that young man you told me about? Andrew?”

“Aaron. And nah, he’s nobody. None of them ever are. I don’t really do relationships, they’re too complicated. Besides, they just seem to keep getting younger.”

“Or we’re getting older.”

Crowley groaned and rubbed a hand down his face. “Don’t remind me. I had some bloke ask me what my TikTok was. I thought I was having a stroke, because I thought he was asking me what type of watch I have.”

Aziraphale frowned. “Was he not?”

“No! It’s apparently some app.”

“Oh, I do hate those. There is really no need for so many buttons.”

Crowley chuckled. “You would say that. I bet you’d go back in time and live in the nineteenth century if you could.”

“I would not!” he said indignantly. “It was much more difficult to get fucked back then.”

Crowley burst into full laughter, rolling over all the way and falling off the sofa.

“Crowley! Are you alright?”

He wiped a tear away from his eye as he continued laughing. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“Well,” he said with a little wiggle. “It’s true. I rather like sex, and I would like to not be imprisoned for having it.”

Crowley hummed and sat up with his back against the sofa. “Mhmm, that’s true. Sex is nice. It’s just the other person that’s the problem. They always want to stick around or tell me what to do.”

Aziraphale nodded, starring off into space. “That is rather bothersome.”

They lapsed into silence, with Crowley still slouched on the floor and Aziraphale staring into space. Crowley realized it was probably late and was just about to say he should be going, when Aziraphale spoke again.

“We could do it.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “Do what?”

Aziraphale looked over and met his eye. “Sex.”

Crowley imagined that the current sensation going through his mind was much like what a computer must feel when it crashes, because he did not compute.

“Um, what?”

“We could have sex,” Aziraphale clarified.

Crowley opened his mouth and then closed it again. Had he fallen asleep on his sofa, and had this all been a dream?

“Why would we do that?”

“Why not?”

“Because you don’t like me.”

“Exactly, and you don’t like me. Think about it, it’s perfect. Neither of us want to deal with the hassle of a relationship, but we want everything else that comes with it. We don’t have to worry about feelings, since we have none for each other, yet we’ve both admitted to finding each other attractive. This could be purely physical. Scratching each other’s backs, as it were.”

Now, Crowley was sure that if he were completely sober, he would be able to come up with a million reasons why this was a bad idea. But he was not sober, and all of a sudden, the only thing he could see was the patch of hair peeking out the top of Aziraphale’s shirt. He licked his lips and swallowed.

“So it would be like, what? Enemies with benefits?”

A smile pulled at the corners of Aziraphale’s lips. “Precisely.”

Crowley stared up at him and saw that same fire that was now burning in his stomach reflected in his eyes. He made up his mind. He set his nearly empty bottle of wine on the table and rolled over so that he was on all four. He began to crawl towards him, and Aziraphale’s eye’s never left his. He stopped once he was kneeling in front of him. Slowly, he brought his hands up to rest on his thighs, as though to not spook him. Which was ridiculous, because this had been his idea in the first place.

Aziraphale watched him, his eyes wide, as though he were surprised himself with how this was all going. He licked his lips and Crowley watched the way the moisture shone on his mouth.

“Are you sure, angel?”

Blue eyes flicked up to meet his, and then he nodded. Strong hands suddenly reached out to grab him by the shoulders and pulled him up. Crowley stumbled slightly as Aziraphale situated him on his lap, and then warm, soft hands were on his face.

“How do you like it?”

Crowley smiled. “Rough.”

A glint of steel flashed in his eyes, and then his mouth was being captured in a punishing kiss. Shit, Aziraphale tasted good. Like wine and cake. Aziraphale wound his fingers into his hair and pulled. Crowley couldn’t help the moan that escaped him, and he couldn’t hide the fact that he was suddenly rock hard. He fisted his hands in Aziraphale’s shirt, grinding his hips against Aziraphale’s own erection. Aziraphale broke the kiss with a gasp.

“Oh, oh dear, that feels wonderful.”

“What, this?” He ground down again, giving them both a bit of fiction.

“Ah, yes. That.”

Aziraphale pulled him back, only this time his mouth went to his neck. Crowley let out a yelp when Aziraphale bit into the soft skin below his jaw, enough to leave a mark. He ran his tongue over it, soothing it, before doing it again a few inches down. He worked his way along the column of his neck, biting and marking him, and Crowley couldn’t find it in himself to care. He wanted more.

He pulled away and slid out of his lap, which Aziraphale began to protest, only to stop when Crowley was on his knees in front of him. Crowley slid his hands up his thighs, admiring how thick and sturdy they were. He could probably pin him down with these and make sure he didn’t go anywhere. Oh god, if he kept thinking like that he wasn’t going to last.

He quickly unfasted the buttons and yanked them down his thighs, pulling his pants with them. Aziraphale’s cock came free, hard and flushed and swaying in front of him. He looked up and met Aziraphale’s eyes, which were hooded and filled with lust. He took him in hand and gave a few long strokes before leaning forward and taking him into his mouth. Aziraphale cried out and fisted his hand in his hair, which only made Crowley moan again. He reached out and took Aziraphale’s other hand to place on his head as well. This seemed to make it clear what he wanted, because he immediately began to move his head in time with upward thrusts, fucking into his mouth. Crowley opened his mouth wider to allow him in. He was long and thick, exactly how he liked it, and the way he was sliding in and out of his throat was making him lightheaded.

He opened his eyes and looked up to find Aziraphale staring at him with his mouth partially open. This time, on the downstroke, he swallowed around him and Aziraphale’s hips spasmed.

“Oh, fuck, Crowley! If you do that again I’m going come.”

Crowley pulled off, his lips and mouth shining with saliva, and grinned up at him. “I rather thought that was the point.”

Aziraphale let out a growl. “Wicked fiend.”

Then Aziraphale was sliding onto the floor, pushing Crowley onto his back. Aziraphale gripped Crowley’s hands and pinned them above his head, his thighs trapping his hips. Crowley squirmed a bit and realized he couldn’t move. Holy fuck, he was so turned on.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” Aziraphale whispered into his ear.

“Oh, I know I am.”

“We’ll see.”

He ripped Crowley’s shirt off over his head non-to-kindly and flung it away before moving on to his trousers. He made quick work of the button and zipper, and then they had to work together to shimmy them down his hips. The moment Crowley was bare, Aziraphale began to nip and bite his way down his ribs and then hips, making Crowley squirm. Crowley’s sexual partners where hardly ever so attentive, usually only interested getting their release as quickly as possible before making a run for it. But Aziraphale seemed intent on making sure every inch of him received attention. Crowley yelped when Aziraphale bit down on a particularly sensitive spot on his thigh. Aziraphale glanced up with a small smirk.

“Too much?”

“No, no, just surprised me. Keep going.”

Aziraphale stared at him for a moment before sliding back up his body and capturing his mouth in a kiss. This, too, Crowley had to admit was new. Don’t get him wrong, he was used to doing a bit of snogging beforehand. But kissing was rarely a feature of his sexual exploits. But this, this felt different. Aziraphale kissed with such intensity that it set off his insides and made a heat burn in his chest. Crowley leaned up into the kiss, opening his mouth to give Aziraphale better access. His tongue slid into his mouth, caressing his own tongue in a way that made him dizzy. Crowley was only a little embarrassed by the moan that escaped him. Aziraphale pulled away, but Crowley chased after him, trying to maintain the kiss. He opened his eyes and frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

Aziraphale pulled away and stood. “Nothing. But I think we need a few things.”

Crowley sat up on his elbows and watched as Aziraphale walked into his bedroom, admiring the shake and wiggle of his bare ass. He returned a moment later carrying a small bottle and a condom. Aziraphale knelt in front of him, his shirt still buttoned and in place, and Crowley couldn’t let that stand. He reached forward and began to undo them, then slid it off his shoulders. Once they were both completely naked, he laid back down.

Aziraphale remained kneeling over him, allowing his eyes to travel up the expanse of his body. Crowley grinned.

“Like what you see, angel?”

“I already told you I do. Appearance wise is not where you’re lacking.”

Crowley narrowed his eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

“Hush.” He picked up the clear bottle and poured some onto his fingers. “How would you like to do this?”

Crowley considered the question, and then rolled over onto all fours. “Like this.”

He felt the warm heat of Aziraphale against his back, and then his lips on his neck. He shivered when his teeth grazed along his shoulder, then gasped when he felt the slick pressure of Aziraphale’s finger against his rim. He couldn’t help but groan when he slid the first finger in, moving in slow thrust as he worked him open. Crowley began to move with him, thrusting his hips back to take him deeper.

“More.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “So demanding.”

But he obliged, sliding another finger in. They spent several minutes like that, gradually working up to the three fingers, before Crowley couldn’t take it anymore.

“Angel, if you don’t hurry up and fuck me…”

“You’ll what?” he asked, his tone mocking. “Leave? No, I don’t think you will. I think you would stay here all night on my fingers if I let you.”

Crowley shivered and bit his lip. His cock, which had begun to soften, returned to full hardness. Thankfully, Aziraphale didn’t seem keen on holding good on that threat, as he slid his fingers out and lined himself up. Crowley whined as the thick head of Aziraphale’s cock pressed into him, the pressure growing before sliding in. They both let out simultaneous moans as Aziraphale slid all the way in. He was a bit bigger than Crowley was used to, but he wasn’t complaining. The stretch was glorious.

Aziraphale began to move, his hands on Crowley’s hips as he picked up the pace. Crowley bowed his head as he began to fuck him with earnest. Aziraphale shifted his angle so that he was now hitting his prostate, and Crowley’s saw stars.

“Fuck! Jesus, right there, angel!”

“Here?”

“Yes, yes, right there. Oh, fuck, keep going.”

Aziraphale leaned forward so that his chest was against Crowley’s back. He reached his hand around and wrapped it around his leaking cock, making Crowley cry out. If Aziraphale kept this up, he was only going to last a minute more.

“Does this feel good?” he whispered in his ear.

“Yes, fuck yes, it feels so good.”

“Are you close?”

“Yes, getting close.”

“Mmm, good. Now, admit you were wrong.”

Crowley faltered, frowning in confusion. “What?”

“Admit you were wrong for taking my clothes out of the wash and apologize.”

“Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me.”

Aziraphale slammed into him again and squeezed his cock tighter. “I assure you I am not. Now, apologize.”

Crowley growled. “No.”

Aziraphale rolled his thumb over the head of his cock at the same as he thrust into him, making his vision white out for a moment. He dropped onto his forearms. Aziraphale picked up the pace, fucking into him at a brutal pace all while he stroked him off. Crowley cried out. He was right on the edge. And then Aziraphale stopped, gripping him by the base of his cock. Crowley almost wept, his release so close he could almost taste it.

“Apologize.”

He gritted his teeth together. “No!”

“Apologize, or I’ll pull out right now and send you on your way.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Aziraphale leaned forward so that he was speaking directly into his ear. “Oh, I would. I’ll send you home, hard and aching and so close to release. But I won’t give it to you. Not until you admit you were wrong.”

Crowley groaned and tried to rock his hips, but Aziraphale held him firm. And then Aziraphale gave the smallest of thrusts, and he couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m sorry, ok! I was wrong and I was an ass for taking your clothes out of the wash!” he cried through gritted teeth.

He felt Aziraphale smile against his ear. “That wasn’t so hard, was it my dear?”

Aziraphale leaned back and began to thrust again, working his hand over Crowley’s straining cock. It only took a couple of thrusts before Crowley was coming with a shout, spilling all over Aziraphale’s hand and floor. Aziraphale followed after him, moaning loudly as he came. Crowley collapsed onto the floor and Aziraphale fell beside him, rolling onto his back. They both laid there for several minutes, coming down from their highs and catching their breath. Crowley turned his head to look at Aziraphale, who was staring at the ceiling.

“You. Are a complete bastard.”

He grinned and turned to look at him. “You already knew that.”

“Yeah, but that was some next level bastardry right there.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Does that mean you won’t want to do it again?”

Crowley glared at him, and then turned away. “I didn’t say that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Crowley wasn't the date Tracy set up, but I think it worked out in their favor anyways! And so begins the Fucking While Pining phase. I see no way in which this can go wrong for these absolute dummies.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad you guys like the direction this is going in and that you enjoyed that last chapter!

Aziraphale hummed as he worked, organizing and re-shelving books. A warm cup of tea sat waiting for him on his desk and the low sound of Chopin played from his record player beside the window. In truth, he was having a good morning. It had started with waking up feeling refreshed and confident, thanks in large part to what had happened the night before.

He had been ready to call it a night and lie in bed until the sun came up, but then a simple knock on the door had changed everything. He had had no intension of propositioning Crowley for sex when he had first invited him in, but after a couple of bottles of wine and Crowley sprawled out like that, could anyone really blame him? Crowley might be a despicable human being, but he was very easy on the eyes. So what if he wanted to blow off a bit of steam by fucking his nemesis into the carpet?

And oh, it had been good. Quite good. Better than he had had in a very long time. Just thinking about it now made a heat burn in his stomach and his trousers felt a bit tighter. Much like Crowley’s arse, which had been almost unfairly perfect. As was his mouth. Oh Lord, his mouth. He had almost not made it to actually fucking, what with Crowley sucking him off like a pro. He chewed his lip as he remembered Crowley looking up while he still had his cock in his mouth, those amber eyes filled with heat. Aziraphale took a moment to steady himself. Perhaps it would be best to not think of such things while at work, when he could do nothing to relieve himself.

Truthfully, he hadn’t expected Crowley to go for it. The words had just sort of slipped out, and then it had been too late to take them back with any dignity, so he had run with it. He had expected Crowley to scoff or even laugh at him, because that was the sort of thing he did. But instead, Crowley had looked up at him from the floor, and Aziraphale had known what was about to happen. Maybe it had been the wine, or perhaps Crowley had been feeling as horny as he had, but either way it had happened. He had fucked Crowley. And now, well, he wasn’t entirely sure where to go from here.

When he had suggested it, he had intended for it to be a reoccurring experience. But would Crowley want that? When he was sober, would he still want to get off with someone he couldn’t stand? Aziraphale didn’t see what the big deal was. It was just sex. He had had sex with men he barely knew before, and he knew Crowley had as well. So how was this any different? At least they knew each other, even if what they knew was that they couldn’t stand the other. A continued sexual relationship between the two of them was the most convenient option.

The bell over the shop door jingled and he looked up to see Tracy walking in. He smiled warmly in greeting.

“Hello my dear, I didn’t know you were going to come in today.”

“And miss out on the juicy details of what happened last night? I don’t think so.”

Aziraphale blinked and frowned. He knew she had some psychic abilities, but surely she couldn’t already know about Crowley. “How did you know?”

She raised an eyebrow as she sat down. “Well I am the one who gave you Lewis’s number.”

He scrunched up his face. “Oh, him? It went terribly. He was a horribly rude man and I walked out before we even ordered our food.”

If Aziraphale was being honest, he had completely forgotten about him. The events of the rest of the night had rather overshadowed that disappointing experience. Tracy frowned in confusion.

“Really? How odd, I was sure my readings were all pointing to you starting down the path towards love last night.”

“Well I’m afraid to say, for once, your readings were wrong. He insinuated that I was too fat for him and offered me a pity shag.”

Tracy gasped and brought he hands to her mouth. “Oh, how terrible! I’m sorry Zira, I never would have set you two up if I had known. You should have called me afterwards I could have brought over some wine to enjoy together.”

Aziraphale pressed his lips together and looked away. “Oh, don’t feel too bad my dear. The night wasn’t a total dud.”

This seemed to pique her interest. “No?”

“No. You see, after that disastrous date, I was in fact at home drinking away my misery. But then I got a knock on the door, and do you know who it was?”

Tracy looked terribly put out that no, she didn’t know. “Who?”

“Crowley.”

“You’re neighbor?”

“Mhmm.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not following dearie. I thought you didn’t like him.”

“Oh, I don’t. But well, I invited him in anyways and we drank some wine, and it was actually going surprisingly well. And then, well, one thing led to another, and we slept together.”

Tracy gasped in delight. “Aziraphale! You saucy minx, I didn’t know you had it in you!”

Aziraphale wiggled a bit and smiled. “Yes, well, he was lying there looking terribly tempting and I simply couldn’t help myself.”

Tracy was grinning widely now. “So, what, are you seeing him now?”

“What?” he asked, aghast. “God no. I don’t think I could stomach and actual relationship with him. We’re simply… enemies with benefits.”

He glanced back at Tracy to see her giving him a dubious look. “Do you honestly think that’s a good idea?”

He rolled his eyes. “Why would it not be? We both crave intimacy but are sick of dealing with other people. This way at least we only have to put up with each other. We hate each other, so this way it will be all physical with none of the messy feelings.”

“And what happens if you catch feelings, dear?”

“That won’t happen.”

Tracy still looked unsure but seemed to understand his tone for one of finality. Aziraphale went back to organizing his books and humming beneath his breath. Tracy might have form of a sixth sense, but even her intuitions weren’t enough to make him believe that he would ever fall in love with Anthony Crowley.

* * *

Crowley sat at his desk, twirling a pen between his fingers and staring blankly at his computer screen. He was sure there were some very important reports on there, but at the moment he couldn’t quite be bothered to care. His mind was somewhere far, far different. Most directly on what had happened last night with Aziraphale. He had been tipsy, sure, but not enough to forget a single moment of what had transpired between them. And if his memories were at all lacking, the ache between his legs was enough of a reminder.

His and Aziraphale’s relationship had taken a sharp turn from something relatively known to something way out of Crowley’s depth of understanding. Aziraphale was just his stuffy neighbor who he enjoyed bothering and pranking. And now… fucking? How did that work? Could he still bother him? What about the pranks? Would that make everything weird? Probably. Should he ask Aziraphale to do something with him? No, enemies didn’t go out together.

Aziraphale had said this was purely a physical thing, but Crowley couldn’t help but feel like he hadn’t thought this whole thing through. They were neighbors. How should they act when they weren’t fucking each other into the floor?

He was saved from his internal spiraling when the door to his office opened and Anathema walked in carrying a paper bag and two drinks.

“What are you doing here?” he frowned.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, yes, hello Anathema. Lovely to see you. Oh, what’s that, you brought lunch? How thoughtful of you!”

She set the bag and drinks down on the desk and dropped into the seat across from him.

“Yeah, yeah, thanks.”

“You’re the worst, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.”

He opened the bag and took out his usual order of chicken salad while Anathema set up her Tofurkey wrap.

“So, anything big and exciting happen in the last two days since I’ve seen you?”

Crowley paused with his fork halfway raised to his mouth. He didn’t really want to tell Anathema what had happened. He knew she would nag him. But he also knew that she would be able to sense that something was wrong and wouldn’t let it drop until he told her.

“Actually, yeah, something did happen.”

She raised her eyebrows and leaned forward, seeming eager for the gossip. “Spill.”

“Well, you remember my neighbor Aziraphale?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I sort of slept with him.”

“What!” she cried, before pumping her fist in the air. “I knew it! I knew you liked him!”

“No! No, it’s not like that.”

She frowned. “What do you mean it’s not like that? You just said you slept with him.”

“Well, yeah, but only because we can’t stand each other.”

There was silence for several moments as she stared at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He blew out a breath and kicked his legs up on his desk, going for nonchalance. “Well, we figured that since we both are interested in sex without strings attached, it would be the perfect setup. We don’t have to tiptoe around each other or buy gifts or go on dates. We can just meet up and fuck and be on our way.”

Anathema blinked. “Are you a moron?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

“Crowley, I know you like to pretend you’re some hard, toughed mastermind, but I know you. You get invested and you get attached. This isn’t going to end well.”

“Would you stop worrying? Can’t you just be happy I’m getting some.”

“Ew, gross. As pleased as I am that you’re getting off with your neighbor, I think you’re jumping into this too quickly.”

He dropped his feet off his desk. “Seriously Anathema, relax. It’ll all work out, I promise.”

She tapped her nails on the desk and shook her head. “Crowley, you’re forgetting that I know you well. The only way you’ve ever been able to maintain casual sexual experiences is by making them one and done. I don’t think you should do this.”

Annoyance flared up inside him. “Well then it’s a good thing I didn’t ask what you think. I’m a grown man and I can sleep with whoever I like. Next time I just won’t tell you, if this is the reaction it’ll get me.”

She sighed. “Oh, stop it. Fine, if you really think you can do this without getting attached, go for it. But don’t come crying to me when you have your soft little heart broken.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about me _mum_.”

Five hours later Crowley stomped up the stairs to his flat, only to falter when he saw Aziraphale balancing a bag in one arm while trying to unlock his door with the other. He froze when he spotted Crowley, the key partially raised.

“Oh, um, hello Crowley.”

“Aziraphale,” he nodded. “Just getting home?”

“Ah, yes. Stopped at the grocers and picked up a few things.”

Crowley continued nodding. “Cool, cool.”

Shit, things _were_ awkward now. What was he supposed to say? _Hey, so um, how does this work? Do I just ask you if you want to come in and fuck? Should I lead up to it?_

He jingled his keys in his pocket and pressed his lips together. It was clear Aziraphale was lost too, still just standing in the middle of the hall. Crowley suddenly felt a bit more assured, a bit more confident that Aziraphale was in just as unfamiliar waters as he was. He grinned.

“You know, that wine you had last night really wasn’t top quality. You should look into expanding your tastes.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened in anger. “What? That was vintage pinot noir that I had saved for a special occasion!”

“Eh, well, maybe you should have kept saving it. It was far too dry for my tastes.”

He huffed. “Yes, well, excuse me if I don’t take your highly esteemed word for it. I doubt you would know the difference between a ten pound bottle and three hundred pound one.”

“No, you’re right, only someone as stuck up as you would care so much about that.”

Aziraphale’s eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips. “I hardly think that _I’m_ the one who’s stuck up just because I know quality.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Well then maybe you should come over to mine and teach me a bit about quality.”

He recognized the moment Aziraphale realized what he was doing. His eyes widened and his face relaxed into something akin to surprise. And then a smirk pulled at his lips and there was the light he had seen in his eyes the night before.

“Yes, I suppose I should. Let me just put these inside.”

Crowley watched as he unlocked his door and disappeared into the flat. He stood there, jiggling his keys and waiting. Should he go inside and leave the door unlocked for him? No, it was probably best to wait. He leaned against the wall, trying his best to give off an air of sophistication. Aziraphale came back a minute later and locked his flat before walking towards him. He waved to the door.

“After you.”

Crowley unlocked the door and pushed it open. “You know, it isn’t polite to keep someone waiti—”

He was cut off when Aziraphale grabbed him by the front of his shirt and spun him around, pinning him to the now closed door. Crowley’s heart rate kicked into over gear and his cock hardened in his trousers.

“You’re a horrible tease, you know that?” Aziraphale growled.

“Yeah, I might have been told a few times.”

And then Aziraphale’s mouth was on his and words left him for the time being. Aziraphale tasted different today. No longer of wine and cake, but instead of tea and perhaps biscuits? Either way, it was good. He opened his mouth when he felt Aziraphale’s tongue pressing at his lips. Aziraphale’s tongue slid in and moved in tandem with his own. Crowley moaned and rubbed his straining erection against Aziraphale’s thigh. He wanted more, and it seemed Aziraphale was willing to give it to him.

Aziraphale hands moved to the button of his suit trousers and popped it open with expertise. Crowley leaned back against the door and watched as Aziraphale slid down to his knees and pulled his pants down with him. His cock sprung free, visible for only a moment before Aziraphale took him in hand and began to stroke. Crowley dropped his head back against the door.

“Fuck, angel, you’re good at that.”

“Mm, practice makes perfect.”

Something Crowley’s wouldn’t name twisted in his stomach. “Have a lot of practice, do you?”

“Only as much as you do, I’m sure.”

Crowley opened his mouth to make another smart remark, but what came out instead was a guttural moan as Aziraphale sucked him into his mouth. Aziraphale took him deeper with each bob and Crowley was finding it difficult to remain standing. The hand that wasn’t stoking the base of his cock lifted his leg so that it was resting on Aziraphale’s shoulder. Crowley heard what sounded like a bottle opening and looked down.

“Did you seriously grab your own bottle of lube from you flat?”

Aziraphale pulled off, and Crowley nearly came just by looking at the absolutely debauched way his pink lips shone with saliva and precome. “I was being practical. Now be quiet.”

Just for that, Crowley wanted to snark even more. But before he could come up with a retort, a lubed finger was pressing and sliding into him. He dropped his head back and moaned, bucking his hips slightly. It didn’t take long for Aziraphale to work him open, not after the night before, and soon he was pulling his mouth off his cock and standing. Crowley gripped the door jam over his head so that he could remain upright.

He watched as Aziraphale unbuckled his belt, unfastened his trousers, and then pulled them down just enough to free his cock. Other than that, he remained completely buttoned up and proper. Crowley couldn’t quite say why that drove him absolutely mad and made him want it even more. And then, oh shit, _then_ Aziraphale gripped him by the other leg and lifted him up, so that he was fully supporting his weight. Crowley wrapped his legs around Aziraphale’s waist while he lined himself up with his entrance. When he finally slid in, neither could help the mutual groans of appreciation. Crowley couldn’t explain it, but this just felt _right._ Aziraphale filled him perfectly and hit in just the right spot.

Aziraphale began to move, thrusting in and out and slamming his back into the door with each thrust. Crowley kept his hands over his head, holding the door jam for support, and Aziraphale seemed perfectly fine with that. Crowley was typically taller that Aziraphale, but that seemed to be all in the legs because like this, he was right at eye level. He opened his eyes and found Aziraphale staring at him, his sight tracking over his body.

“Look at you, all buttoned up in your expensive suit. I bet you put so much effort into looking effortless, when in reality all you want is for someone to muss you up,” he panted.

Crowley grinned. “You’re one to talk. You’re so pompous and snobbish, but on the inside, you just want to go ape shit. You want someone to let you pin them to a door and fuck them until they can’t remember their name.”

“I thought I told you to shut up.”

Aziraphale kissed him again, all while fucking into him at a rapid rate. He adjusted his grip, and the next thrust hit him right in the bundle of nerves that made his vision white out. He cried out and brought one hand down to grip his shoulder tightly. Aziraphale smiled and began to drill into that spot again and again, making him see stars.

“Fuck, Aziraphale, right there!”

Aziraphale leaned forward so that he could speak directly into his ear. “Do you know what I want?”

Crowley was a bit beyond forming full sentences, so all he managed was a small hum.

“I don’t want to fuck you until you can’t remember your name. I want to fuck you until you can’t remember _anyone’s_ name. Just mine.”

Crowley slammed his head back into the door and bit his lip. “Shit!”

“I want to ruin everyone else for you. The next time you fuck someone else I want it to be my name on your lips when you come. I want you to scream for me because you can’t be bothered to think of anyone else when you’re being fucked. I want you to be _frustrated_ because nobody else can make you feel this way.”

“Fuck, fuck, Aziraphale I’m so close!”

“Oh yeah? I want you to come just like this, untouched and just by my cock.”

Based on the way his body was reacting to this, that was definitely going to be a possibility.

“And I want you to—” thrust, “say,” thrust, “my,” thrust, “name.”

“Shit, Aziraphale!”

Crowley came hard, harder than he had the night before. Aziraphale managed to catch most of his spend in his hand, all while he was coming inside him. It felt like it lasted forever, just wave after wave of pleasure. When Aziraphale finally pulled out and let go of him, Crowley couldn’t do much more than slide down to sit on the floor. Aziraphale joined him, still breathing hard and red in the face. Crowley ran a hand through his sweaty hair.

“Jesus bloody Christ angel, where did you learn to talk like that?”

Aziraphale grinned and glanced over at him. “I do read quite a lot, and that makes me rather good with words.”

“Bloody hell, I’ll say.”

After a few minutes Aziraphale stood up and walked to the bathroom. Crowley heard the sink going, and then a minute later Aziraphale was back, looking completely put together.

“Right. Well that was good fun, but I really should be going. I intend on cooking a roast and it needs to be in the oven for a bit of time.”

Crowley blinked. “Oh, yeah, sure.”

He stood and opened the door, allowing Aziraphale through. They stood there for a moment, seeming unsure of what to say. Eventually Crowley just grinned.

“Right, well, I’ll be seeing you around, Angel.”

Aziraphale straightened his bowtie. “Yes, I expect you will.”

Just like that he was gone, leaving Crowley standing alone in his doorway. Slowly, he shut it, before walking over to the sofa and dropping down onto it. Well, that had been a thing. A small part of him had been hoping Aziraphale was going to invite him over to eat that roast with him, perhaps enjoy another bottle of wine. But that was ridiculous and stupid. That wasn’t what this was. No dates. No dinners. Just sex. Amazing sex. That was enough.

Crowley turned on the television. It _was_ enough. It had to be. Why would he want to have dinner with Aziraphale anyways? What would they even talk about? It wasn’t like they had much in common. What would Aziraphale talk about, books? No thanks. Crowley was plenty happy to use him for sex and then go on with his life alone. And even if he did order in takeout and go to bed early because he had nothing else to do, nobody needed to know that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys don't mind smut, because there is going to be a lot of it in this.


	10. Chapter 10

“Tracy, I’m not so sure about this. Where did you even hear about this place?”

Aziraphale stood on the sidewalk, looking up at the dingy sign over the comedy club. Tracy had burst into his shop the day before and told him she had acquired tickets for an event. At the time he had assumed it would be a play or a concert. This place was certainly no grand music hall. The brick was worn down and the windows looked as though they hadn’t been cleaned for several years. It was not his sort of place, to say the least.

Tracy smiled brightly at him. “If you must know, I saw a flyer hanging in a window, and something about it just seemed right. Like it was telling me we needed to come.”

Aziraphale fought against the urge to roll his eyes. He couldn’t help but feel as thought Tracy’s sixth sense had been terribly off lately.

“I don’t know, I don’t think this is my thing.”

“Oh, stop being such a kill joy and come have a drink at least. If you are miserable, we’ll leave in an hour.”

He sighed. “Very well then.”

She took him by the crook of the elbow and dragged him forward. “There’s a good chap.”

The inside wasn’t much better than the outside. The lights were low, and a perpetual haze of smoke seemed to float in the air, even though he didn’t see anyone smoking. Low rock and roll music was playing from the speakers, and there was an empty stage set up at the front. He assumed that was where the comedians would be performing. His eyes moved across the space, looking for an empty table where they might sit down.

“Aziraphale?”

He snapped his eyes to the left and almost groaned. Crowley was lounging in a booth, his long arm draped over the back of the chair, and across from him was that dark-haired girl he had met a few weeks ago. Anathema, he believed her name was. He was wearing a casual grey Henley with dark jeans and snakeskin boots, and Aziraphale would be damned if he didn’t look good.

“Oh, hello Crowley. I didn’t realize I would be seeing you here.”

He smirked. “I could say the same. Never thought I would see someone of your refined tastes slumming it in the Hellfire Club.”

Aziraphale fidgeted and glanced at Tracy, who was looking at Crowley with great interest. “Normally, you wouldn’t. My dear friend Tracy brought me here tonight.”

“Why don’t you two come sit with us here,” Anathema said. “There aren’t any other table’s open.”

Aziraphale felt a surge of panic. It was one thing to fuck Crowley in their homes, and another entirely to spend time with him out in the open. He had been hoping for a lovely night, and if Crowley were concerned, he would likely not be getting that. At least, not if clothes were involved. He was about to say he would be fine with standing when Tracy spoke up.

“Oh, that would be just lovely! Thank you, dearie. My knees aren’t what they used to be.”

Aziraphale watched as she marched forward and slid into the seat beside Anathema. Then it was just Aziraphale, standing awkwardly in the middle of the floor while the other three stared up at him.

“I won’t bite,” Crowley said with a smirk.

God, what a cocky bastard. Aziraphale rolled his eyes and slid into the seat. There wasn’t a ton of space, and with Crowley’s legs spread the way they were, their thighs ended up being pressed together. This really shouldn’t make Aziraphale’s face heat up the way it did, considering only a few nights ago he had had Crowley pinned to the door while he fucked him into oblivion. But that was in private. Now, he had Tracy eyeing him up and smiling in that way she did when she put something together, and he was _not_ ok with that.

“So, angel, not a big fan of comedy then?”

He sniffed. “I think comedy is subjective, really. Not everything is for everyone.”

“And let me guess, you subjectively hate all comedy?”

“No!” he cried. “That isn’t true. I’m a fan of older comedies. I simply find the new stuff to be so gauche.”

Crowley snorted. “Oh, _gauche_ is it? Sorry that not everything is to your standards, Mr. Fancypants.”

Tracy cut into their bickering. “You call him angel?”

Both men stumbled from their trains of thought. Aziraphale saw a pink tinge rise up in Crowley’s cheeks, and he quickly jumped on the opportunity to gain the upper hand.

“Oh, that’s just a ridiculous little name he came up with after we met. He thinks he’s terribly clever.”

“Hey, I _am_ clever! You just don’t appreciate it.”

“I don’t think anyone does.”

Just then a bartender appeared beside their table. “Can I get you lot anything?”

“Oh, yes, a glass of your best red wine for me.”

Crowley groaned. “Angel, nobody orders wine in a place like this.”

Aziraphale straightened up in his seat. “I do, obviously.”

“ _Obviously,_ ” he mocked. “Yeah, I’ll have a rum and coke. Heavy on the rum, thanks.”

Once Tracy and Anathema had ordered their drinks and the barmaid had left, the table lapsed into an awkward silence. Aziraphale shifted around, trying to pay attention to anything besides the warmth of the leg pressed against his. He would _not_ let his mind go there. He was going to keep his and Crowley’s sexual exploits separate from their real life.

“So,” Crowley said, “You actually allowed yourself to be dragged out of your comfort zone for once?”

Aziraphale glared at him. “I am perfectly comfortable here.”

“Really? Because you’ve been sitting like you have a board taped to your back since you walked in.”

He shifted, refusing to relax his rigid posture. “That’s how I always sit. Good posture is not something to be ashamed of, though you seem to have never learned that lesson.”

Crowley grinned wider and slouched just a bit more, in a way that absolutely did not look comfortable. This caused his knee to rub even harder against his own.

“Nope. Very bendy, me.”

At this he winked, and heat pooled in Aziraphale cheeks. What on earth was wrong with him? How could he be allowing Crowley to fluster him so easily? He looked resolutely away towards the stage. A moment later the barmaid returned with their drinks. Aziraphale picked up his glass and took a sip, before making a face. He refused to admit it out loud, but it really wasn’t good. But he couldn’t give Crowley the satisfaction of being right, so he took another drink.

“Can I try it?”

He turned sharply to see Crowley watching him, a tiny smile playing at the corners of his lips. He frowned, sure this was just a ploy for him to mock his choice.

“You already have your drink.”

Crowley shrugged. “Yeah, but I like a good wine. Let me taste.”

Aziraphale sighed and resigned himself to being teased as he slid the glass over to him. Crowley picked it up and gave the glass a swirl before taking a drink. He smacked his lips.

“Not bad. Want to switch?”

Aziraphale blinked and frowned. Switch? The wine was abysmal and certainly not good enough to want to switch drinks over. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“Why?”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “What, I’m not allowed to enjoy a red wine once in a while? Do you want to switch or not?”

He pushed his tumbler closer, and Aziraphale hesitantly picked it up. “Fine, if you’re so insistent.”

He took a sip of the rum and coke and sighed. Yes, that was much better. He looked back at Crowley and saw that he was still watching him with that smile. Tentatively, he smiled back. Just then the lights dimmed, and someone leapt up on stage.

“Alright everyone, are you ready for a night of laughs and talent?”

Cheers went up around the bar, including Crowley, who whooped beside him. Aziraphale smiled and clapped politely.

“First up, we have our resident frog man himself, Hastur!”

Aziraphale watched at a tall man with grungy blonde hair took the stage. It was difficult to tell from this distance, but his eyes also appeared to be unnaturally dark. Aziraphale tried to enjoy himself, he really did. Unfortunately, the man on stage was not very good at all. He took comfort in the fact that nobody else was really laughing either. It seemed that his brand of comedy was mostly making fun of the people in the crowd, and he wasn’t clever about it. Aziraphale was watching with no small amount of secondhand embarrassment as the “comedian” mocked a woman up front for her size when he felt Crowley lean in beside him and whisper in his ear.

“Maybe he wouldn’t be such a twat if he took a shower once in a while.”

Aziraphale choked on his drink and tried to hide his smile behind his hand.

“Crowley!” he admonished, though there was no heat behind it.

Crowley grinned wider. “I’m serious! Might put him in a better mood if his hair didn’t have enough oil to stand up on its own.”

Aziraphale tried to fight his smile, but it was a losing battle. He let out a snicker. “You’re terrible.”

“Not as terrible as this set. Or his clothing choice for that matter.”

He swatted at him playfully. “I thought it was my clothing choice you had a problem with.”

“Nah, it’s grown on me.”

Aziraphale turned away from Crowley only to find Tracy and Anathema both smiling at them in a way that was far too knowing for his liking. He cleared his throat and tried his best to focus studiously on the stage. It was difficult with Crowley pressed against his side, his arm slung across the back of the booth and therefor Aziraphale’s shoulder. It took a great deal of effort to not allow himself to simply lean back into him in the darkness of the pub. Crowley certainly didn’t seem bothered with putting any distance between them.

The next few acts were slightly better, though Aziraphale mostly took enjoyment from Crowley’s whispered commentary. He really could be witty when his negative attention wasn’t focused on him for once. Aziraphale even joined in when he thought of his own barb, which Crowley took obvious joy in.

The server continued to bring them drinks as they finished the ones they had, at Crowley’s insistence, though Aziraphale had switched over to scotch. By the time the show was over, and the lights came back up, Aziraphale was feeling quite warm and happy as he laughed at another one of Crowley’s remarks.

“Honestly though, it’s a good thing you came to this show. It was way better than the ones in the past.”

Aziraphale looked at him aghast. “ _That_ was better? Why do you even come?”

“Eh, it’s a good time to just drink and relax, even if the entertainment isn’t great. I know it’s not one of your opera’s, but I’d say it has its own merits.”

Aziraphale hummed. “Well, I suppose it wasn’t as completely awful as I had first thought it would be.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “And tell me, why is that?”

He huffed and rolled his eyes. If he hadn’t drank so much, he might do a better job at restraining his words, but as it was his lips had loosened considerably.

“Oh, hush. You know it was you that made it better.”

Crowley’s eyes widened at his honesty and Aziraphale noticed a fetching blush high on his cheeks. Or perhaps that was just from the alcohol. Either way, it made something warm settle in his chest. He wanted to reach out and touch him. To run his fingers along those sharp cheekbones and slide up into his hair. Instead, he reached for his scotch and took a long drink. This didn’t help him think. He turned to Tracy, hoping to make some sort of casual conversation to ground himself, only to discover that the opposite side of the booth was empty. He frowned in confusion and looked around the pub.

“Looks like they ditched us,” Crowley said, motioning to the bar.

Sure enough, the two women were seated close together on stools and in discussion together.

“Should we worry about that?” he asked, only half joking.

“Probably. But that’s a problem for another time. Another round?”

Aziraphale looked down at his nearly empty glass. “Oh, yes, I think so.”

A half an hour later and another drink in, and Aziraphale found himself wiping a tear away from his eye as he laughed along with Crowley’s story.

“There is absolutely no way you did that!”

“I did!” Crowley cried, delight written across his face. “You should have seen how red his face got when he realized he couldn’t get the coins off the pavement! That prat thought he was so big and mighty, but he wasn’t above picking up a coin off the street.”

Aziraphale shook his head. “You are a menace to society.”

“Yeah, I’ve been told. Wasn’t ever really challenged on it. Well, until you that is.”

“Yes, well, you needed a dose of your own medicine to humble you.”

“Hey, I’m plenty humble!”

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Really?”

Crowley let out a deep sigh. “Well, no, but why should I have to be? You’re not humble.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Oh come on, you’re not! You’re a complete snob! You took one look at this place and thought you were too good for it, didn’t you?”

He pressed his lips together and looked away. “Not _strictly_ speaking.”

“Not to mention you’re incredibly picky with the wines you drink and the music you listen to.”

Aziraphale glanced back at him and narrowed his eyes. “Speaking of such, why did you drink that wine earlier? There’s no way you actually liked it. It was terrible.”

Crowley shrugged and balanced his cheek on his hand. “Yeah, but I can handle a bad glass of wine. I saw the face you made and knew you hated it, but were too proud to say anything. So I gave you an out.”

Aziraphale stared at him, letting his words sink in. Crowley had had the opportunity to mock him, to make him admit he had been wrong for ordering the wine. But he hadn’t. Instead, he had given up his perfectly good rum and coke and had forced down the wine, all so Aziraphale wouldn’t have a bad time. Something tight and uncomfortable twisted in his chest as he looked into Crowley’s unguarded golden eyes. He stood suddenly from the booth and Crowley looked up at him in concern.

“I need to go to the loo.”

Crowley raised his eyebrows. “Uh, ok.”

Aziraphale smiled coyly. “Would you like to join me?”

It seemed to take a moment for his words to sink, but when they did, a smile lit up Crowley’s sharp face.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Course.”

He slid out of the booth as Aziraphale turned and began to make his way ahead of him towards the sign indicating the restroom. He kept his face as neutral as possible, trying not to look suspicious to those around them. When he reached the door to the men’s room, he pushed it open and did a quick scan beneath the two stalls to make sure it was empty. As soon as Crowley walked into the room he turned and locked the door and within the next second Aziraphale was on him.

Their mouths found each other in a blur of movement and heat, their hands grasping desperately for the other’s clothes and hair. Aziraphale settled his hands on those thin hips, gripping him tight and pulling his pelvis flush with his. Crowley was already hard in his pants, the stiff line of him straining against his fly. Crowley’s hands had found their way into his hair, which he tugged on with enough force to elicit a moan from Aziraphale.

“Such a filthy angel,” Crowley muttered against his lips. “Wanting to fuck me in a men’s toilet?”

Aziraphale slid his hand down his front and gripped his cock through his trousers, making him moan loudly. “I don’t much care where I fuck you, only that I do.”

Crowley let out a whimper, and then his hands were fumbling to undo Aziraphale’s trouser buttons and pull down the zipper. He pushed him backwards until his back hit the stall door, then slid down to his knees.

“Dear,” Aziraphale panted as he watched Crowley take him in hand and begin to stroke. “You’re going to get your trousers absolutely filthy.”

“Don’t care,” Crowley growled as he opened his mouth and took him in.

Aziraphale couldn’t help but cry out as he slid into that warm heat. He fisted his own hand into those flaming locks and began to guide him at the speed he liked best. Crowley took direction surprisingly well. He would have thought, before they started this, that Crowley would be demanding and prideful in the bedroom. Oh, how wrong he had been. Crowley loved to please, loved to be told what to do, and Aziraphale loved telling him.

“Oh, that’s it darling. You look positively stunning down there, with your mouth around my cock.”

Crowley hummed and took him deeper, opening his golden eyes to look up at him.

“You like that, don’t you? Being told how good you are. Knowing what that mouth does to me.”

Crowley swallowed around him, making him cry out once more and tighten his hand. He glanced down and saw that somehow Crowley was managing to smirk up at him. He let out a breathless laugh.

“You’re ridiculous.”

Crowley pulled off but continued to stroke him. “So are you. Such a fussy angel in front of everyone else.” He stood up and captured his mouth once more. “But you let all that down in front of me. I get to see what a bastard you are.”

“And you like that?”

Crowley grinned. “Oh yeah.”

He pulled him forward until he was able to perch himself on the sink. Aziraphale helped him to get settled and began to tug on his trousers, working them down his hips until they slid to his ankles. This posed a problem, as he was unable to get between his legs like this. Aziraphale groaned in frustration as he tried to work his hand beneath him to gain access to his entrance. Crowley chuckled.

“Hold on angel.”

He climbed off the sink and turned around, bending at the waist to grip the edges of the counter. Aziraphale smiled.

“Wily serpent.”

That was when he realized a second problem. “Ah, I don’t seem to have any—”

“Back left pocket,” Crowley said immediately.

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow and reach down to feel inside where Crowley had indicated. Sure enough, he found a packet of lube.

“Were you already planning on getting lucky tonight?”

Crowley smirked over his shoulder. “I’m always prepared.”

That shouldn’t make Aziraphale stomach drop uncomfortably, and yet it did. Crowley was allowed to sleep with whoever he wanted. He poured a bit onto his fingers and worked him open, fucking him on his fingers while he made absolutely debauched sounds. When he was sure he was ready, he slicked himself up and lined up with Crowley.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes,” he moaned. “Come on angel, just hurry up and fuck m- ah!”

Aziraphale slid in, holding tight to his hips until he bottomed out. Crowley was so tight around him, and if he hadn’t already come inside him twice that week, he might have come right then and there. He began to move, slowly at first but gradually picking up the pace. When he opened his eyes, he saw that Crowley was watching him rapturously in their reflection in the mirror above the sink. His breath caught in his chest as he stared into those golden eyes, looking at him so intensely while he fucked him. Perhaps it was because he was still tipsy, but he suddenly found that he wanted to be closer to him. He leaned forward and wrapped one hand around his throat, which Crowley seemed to appreciate. He then began to trail kisses down his neck and shoulder, stopping only to bite at the juncture between.

“Fuck, angel, that angle’s good. Keep going.”

It was a silly thing to say, because of course Aziraphale was going to keep going. He nosed his way up to his ear and bit at the lobe, tugging it between his teeth and earning little whimpers from Crowley.

“Do you like the way I fuck you?”

“Shit, angel, you know I do.”

“Do you want to come?”

Crowley bit hip lip and pushed hips back in time with his thrusts. “Yes, fuck, please.”

“Hmm, what if I told you not too? What if I didn’t want you to come until the next time I saw you, when I could take you apart completely? What if I came inside you and made you go home filled with me but still aching and hard and desperate?”

Crowley whined loudly, dropping his head forward to rest on his arm. “Angel!”

Aziraphale grinned and nipped his neck again. “Would you be able to hold out? Or would you come knocking on my door at two in the morning, begging me to give you that sweet release? Because I know you would be good and wouldn’t get yourself off.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted like a prayer as Aziraphale continued to thrust into him at the perfect angle. “Angel, angel please I’m begging you.”

He chuckled. “Oh, alright. Not this time then.”

He then reached his other hand around and began to stroke him in time with his thrusts. “Go ahead my dear. Come.”

And he did, with a shout that sounded like his name. Aziraphale followed quickly, the images he had formed in his mind pushing him to the brink. Once they both came down from their high, Aziraphale slid off his back and pulled a few paper towels from the dispenser to wipe himself off. He looked back at Crowley and saw that he was still bent over the sink, his eyelids heavy and watching him. He smiled at the sight and pulled down a few more paper towels before wetting them slightly. He then took his time wiping up his mess between Crowley’s thighs, making sure to be gentle in his most sensitive spots. Crowley watched him in their reflection the whole time, surprise and perhaps a bit of embarrassment crossing his face. Afterwards they both straightened themselves up, buttoning their trouser and fixing their hair.

“Well,” Crowley said after a moment. “That was a much better time than I expected to have tonight.”

Aziraphale couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, same for me. I am, surprisingly, glad I saw you here.”

Crowley’s eyebrows slid all the way up his forehead. “Wow. You’re actually saying something nice about me? Has hell frozen over?”

He tsked and rolled his eyes. “If you’re going to make a big deal about it, I won’t do it again.”

“No, no!” Crowley said quickly. “No, it’s a nice change of pace. And _I_ will say that hanging out with you wasn’t as boring as I thought it would be.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What a ringing endorsement.”

“It is, actually, from me. I… I had fun.”

Aziraphale ran his hands over his shirt, glancing away nervously. “Yes, so did I.”

There was a long pause before Crowley pushed off from the sink. “Right, well, we should probably go. The people we came with might be wondering where we’ve gone.”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

Crowley unlocked the door and swung it open, only for them both to stop when they saw Anathema and Tracy waiting on the other side. Tracy wore a smug little smile, while Anathema was glaring at Crowley. The two men glanced at each other. Aziraphale cleared his throat.

“Right, Tracy, we best be going. I do have to open the shop tomorrow.”

He didn’t wait for a response, and instead pushed past the two women and made his way towards the exit. He didn’t look back at Crowley as he left. He was sure he would see him very soon. And perhaps, just maybe, that wasn’t really such a terrible thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really having fun with this fic. I love writing them as equal bastards. 
> 
> Also, I wrote a sort of holiday human AU one-shot if you're interested! [Burns Like Whiskey, Tastes Like Honey](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27708812)
> 
> Also Also, on my other fics I enjoy recommending fics that I enjoy, so I think I'll do that on this one as well! This first fic I'm recommending is [One Miraculous December](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27828658/chapters/68130046) . Its very soft and romantic and angsty and fluffy and I'm really enjoying it! Here is the summary. 
> 
> Candles. Mistletoe. An entire frozen lake. Festive memories from their past together keep appearing out of nowhere.
> 
> Crowley's sure he's manifesting them accidentally out of sheer romantic desperation. It's bad enough trying to hide his unrequited love as they grow closer post-Apocaloops - what if Aziraphale sees the objects for what they are, a window into his yearning soul? Unfortunately, the only way to banish the objects seems to be talking about each memory...
> 
> Meanwhile, Aziraphale is just trying to woo his demon boyfriend with big gestures, ready to prove his devotion. And if Crowley acts awkward about the miracles? Surely that's just his difficulty accepting affection. The solution: shower him with as much of it as possible...

**Author's Note:**

> I just want this to be a fun one since the other fic I'm writing has so many dark elements. Comments are super appreciated! Let me know what you think!


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